


Swipe Right

by sasstasticmad



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BB-8 IS A CAT, Background Relationships, Booty Call, Cockblock Hux, Couch Sex, Date Night, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Fluff, Fraternities & Sororities, Kissing, Meeting the Parents, Multi, Online Dating, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Recreational Drug Use, Sex, background stormpilot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstasticmad/pseuds/sasstasticmad
Summary: Technically this is all Poe's fault. If it hadn't been for him, Rey wouldn't have been on Tinder in the first place.  If it hadn't been for him, there's no way she'd be waking up next to Ben Solo.  At least, she wouldn't be so happy about it.A College/Tinder AU





	1. Date One

**Author's Note:**

> To those of you who have followed SWWBQ/HWLTC/my tumblr, you know this has been a long time coming and I'm super excited to finally share my College AU with you. This is definitely not the angst-ridden epic SWWBQ was but I'm very happy to be writing something fluffy and modern. 
> 
> Let me know what you think with kudos, bookmarks, comments, or just reading. Bug me on tumblr- mygrandmathinksimsassy- for more regular updates on the writing process. 
> 
> Thank you so much and hope you enjoy!!

In Rey's defense, this had all been Poe's idea.

Poe, in a misguided fit of support, had been the one to download Tinder, deeming it high time that she found someone other than him and Finn to wile away her Friday nights. She should have just ignored it but he did have kind of a point. 

They are her friends, her best and perhaps only friends, but it’s obvious even to her that they’re craving more and more time without her as the third wheel, sleeping on their couch on the nights where her roommates decide that sleep is no longer necessary and interrupting the sickening coupledom of which they are reigning kings.

They were subtle at first. But subtlety is long gone.

\--

“Is there anyone cute in your classes?” Poe asks. “Or is this semester going to be another episode of the Rey and her impossibly high standards show?”

It’s movie night and it’s Finn’s choice so they are watching _The Jerk_ for the third time. Rey is sprawled on the overstuffed chair that Finn found abandoned uptown, a bright orange monstrosity that manages to somehow tie the room together. Poe’s head is in Finn’s lap and he looks blissed out, contented in the same sleepy way their cat BB-8 is when she falls asleep in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Only you, Poe,” she says without missing a beat. Poe winks at her and Finn laughs, his enthusiasm contagious as Steve Martin attempts to woo Bernadette Peters.

“I’m flattered but I’m already spoken for,” Poe says. “I’m not sure the old ball and chain will be too keen on you scoping me out…”

“I’m a ball and chain?”

Finn’s brows are raised but his amusement still shines through.

“You’re a very cute ball and chain,” Poe tells him. He turns to look at Finn and it is as though the world outside their spot on the couch has vanished. “You’re the only ball and chain I ever want to have.”

They kiss and Rey doesn’t know whether to be jealous or repulsed by their mutual adoration. In the meantime, BB-8 jumps down from her cat tree and graces her with a flicker of attention. Rey runs a hand lightly over bright orange fur, smiling to herself when she is rewarded with a contented chirp.

Steve Martin starts playing the ukulele and Rey does her best to the pang of something sappy growing in her stomach.

“I know you’re going to hate me for saying it but you should really get a Tinder,” Poe says when he comes up for air. “There may or may not be cute people on there. You could spend your weekends having sex instead of being boring with us.”

“I like boring,” Rey says easily and it’s the truth. She would never call her friends boring but there is a comforting stability that comes with their normal schedule. She’s the third wheel but she’s their third wheel, the tiebreaker that decides whether they should get takeout or what type of beer to get.

It’s easy. It’s routine.

“Forget he mentioned it then,” Finn says with an understanding smile. “We’ll be sure to bore you for the rest of the night.”

They finish the movie, switching over to _Parks and Recreation_ when they can’t think of something else to watch even though they’ve seen every episode at least twice.

Rey takes advantage of their spotless bathroom before she leaves, using their shower that always seems to have hot water. She leaves with damp hair, only slightly weirded out when Poe says to check her phone.

He’s changed the lock screen to a picture of BB-8, her belly fully exposed, and Rey laughs at the startled expression on her face. 

It’s only when she’s back at her apartment that she realizes he’s downloaded Tinder. 

\--

She almost deletes the app on sight, staring at with narrowed eyes until she comes up with a much better plan.

If Poe wants her to go on Tinder, to become part of a sickeningly adorable couple so he feels less guilty for monopolizing Finn’s free time, she owes it to him at least to try. But trying doesn’t mean she has to be good at it.

Finn is an excellent photographer and there are any number of pictures stored on his phone that make her look far prettier than she actually is, but she decides without consulting him to rely on the terrible collection she has on hand.

Maybe nobody will want to match her. It’ll make it easier to convince Finn and Poe that being a crazy dog lady isn’t that bad of an idea if everyone is repulsed on sight.

She goes through her phone; picking out the pictures that represent her far better than any carefully posed headshot. There’s one with her cuddling a wary BB-8, both of them wearing matching grimaces worthy of Internet memes. She finds another one from her sophomore year ecology class on their field trip to the Dagobah swamps. Her face is covered in sludge and she’s proudly holding up the lone newt she had been able to catch. She looks ridiculous but she looks happy so to the profile it goes.

There’s no polite way of writing “my friends are making me do this because I’m interrupting their free time” in her bio so Rey just writes her major and hopes the doom and gloom of engineering is more than enough to deter any unworthy candidates.

She starts swiping with all of the enthusiasm of a death row inmate and can’t help but wonder if Poe knew exactly what she’d be getting into.

Everyone looks the same, the same fuckboy haircut topping a body clad in polo shirts and privilege. The photos all follow the same format and what once seemed almost creative becomes routine in minutes. She has no idea where all of these people are finding baby tigers to hold but she can only assume it’s somewhere unethical that doesn’t realize that tigers probably don’t like being held.

She almost wretches after a unyielding stream of mirror pictures, tired of looking at boys that are painfully aware of just how pretty they look but they are easily forgotten as soon as she swipes left.

The few that are worth a second glance have bios that ruin what little appeal they held. She has no interest in anyone that spends their weeknights getting trashed so it isn’t a hardship to send them into Tinder oblivion.

She nearly gives up entirely, thinking of spinsterhood with a fondness she normally reserves for garlic bread and pasta, when someone finally catches her eye.

His name is Ben and the lack of endangered species or mirror selfies in his profile is a light in the darkness.

Ben’s hair is long but not in a deliberate sort of way. It flops across his forehead like he’s a long lost member of the British invasion, just barely overgrown in a way that suggests a haircut is coming sooner rather than later. He’s sporting a goatee, something that’s almost a bit too scraggly to be a full beard, but it only emphasizes the strong line of his jaw.

The picture quality isn’t great but she likes the scrappiness of it. It isn’t curated or stylized; it’s just a picture. It’s a boy in a tie that’s too bright with ears and a nose that are too big to be considered conventional. But he’s smiling in a way that reaches his eyes and Rey finds herself smiling back, comforted by the familiarity she shouldn’t be feeling just yet.

It’s the only picture on his profile and Rey reads the single sentence in his bio with a wary sort of expectation, waiting for the words that will destroy the flutters in her stomach.

It just says that he likes coffee and hates Tinder.

Rey finally swipes right after a minute, grateful that they have at least that in common.

She gets a notification about five minutes later and it looks like she found her match.

\--

The only other person she matches with the first night is just a picture of chocolate chip cookies. They look more delicious than any man she’s seen on there and while she’s pleased to see dessert is just as fond of her, she’s not quite sure ogling pictures of cookies is what Poe had in mind when he downloaded the app to her phone. 

Rey would blame it on high standards but at this point she’ll settle for a vibrator that occasionally brings over takeout. She decides to revisit the matter in the morning and falls asleep while debating going off of the grid entirely.

When she wakes up the next morning, the only messages are from Finn asking for a study date sometime in the next few days. His idea of studying involves frantically procrastinating before pulling an all-nighter but she replies in the affirmative almost as soon as she reads it. She likes the company, even if it means that she’ll have to get the meat of her problem sets done before they meet up but work should be slow on a Saturday. It shouldn’t be that hard to get ahead.

\--

Work is just as slow as she had predicted so her homework ends up done before her lunch. It’s too early in the semester for people to care about their computer problems and it’s almost a relief when a handful of freshmen come in complaining about their brand new MacBooks. She sounds like a cliché when she asks if they’ve tried rebooting their laptops but it’s worth it when their worry turns into a shy sort of embarrassment.

Her boss, Unkar, would probably flip his lid if he knew she wasn’t trying to unload the mediocre laptop cases he’s been trying to shill but it makes her happier just to get things fixed as soon as possible. If he wanted her to cheat teenagers, he’d be paying her more than a dollar over minimum wage. 

Rey ends up working a double and her feet are almost numb by the time she makes it back to the apartment. Her roommates have disappeared and she has never been more grateful for football if it means that she gets the house to herself.

She takes a shower, sucking up the remaining hot water like a sponge, and dons her rattiest sleep shirt before indulging in the primping that even Poe finds ridiculous. It’s relaxing and self-indulgent but it keeps her sane.

There haven’t been any notifications from Tinder but there’s a thing on the app that lets you posts pictures and in her boredom, it seems like the perfect idea.

She’s wearing a facemask, the turmeric one that threatens to turn her skin yellow if she wears it for too long, and her hair is in the sloppiest of topknots. She’s utterly revolting but there’s no time like the present so Rey snaps a photo before she can change her mind.

It’s a truly bad picture of her but she posts it immediately before returning to her feeble attempts at painting her toenails. She’s using the bright yellow shade that had been on sale at the drug store and from any sort of distance, it looks like a highlighter melted all over her feet.

When she checks her phone half an hour later, there’s a notification from the app letting her know that Ben likes the photo.

Something equally happy and anxious dances its way through her stomach and her fingers start working on a message before she has time to process it.

\--

_Fun Fact: You are the first person I’ve matched with since downloading Tinder._

She hits send before she can convince herself otherwise and debates whether to turn the sound off her phone lest the lack of noise drive her mad. But hardly any time passes before she hears the familiar ding she has long since associated with Finn.

**Fun Fact: Highly doubtful.**

His response is immediate, none of this waiting three hours bullshit that seems to have afflicted every other guy she’s ever shown interest in.

Rey types her reply without thinking about it and there are surely only minutes left before he decides she isn’t worth the trouble. She adds in a smiley face emoji, the bright obnoxious one that seems a bit too happy, already confident in the knowledge that Ben probably loathes them.

_Fun Fact: That was more of an opinion than a fact._

He responds within seconds, starting a conversation that only endears him to her more.

**It’s definitely a fact. What man could resist the allure of such a charming Smurf?**

_Smurfs aren’t yellow. They’re blue._

**A Smurf cousin then….**

**Can I buy you a drink tonight? I promise I’m better at this in person.**  

Her stomach flutters again and she smiles stupidly down on her phone, her face mask crackling as she does. A quick glance in the mirror reminds her of her physical inadequacies all wrapped up in an oversize t-shirt. On another Saturday night, she’d already be half asleep but she suddenly feels invigorated with the promise of a purpose outside of her twin bed.

_I’m busy until 11. Want to meet at Kanata’s at 12?_

It’s close enough to the apartment that she’ll be able to get home if Ben ends up being a waste of time but the butterflies radiating through her stomach speak otherwise.

**I’ll see you there.**

Rey’s tempted to force the conversation further but she sort of likes the directness of it all. She lets herself look at his picture one more time before starting to get ready, his smile warming her even when she inflicts the self-imposed torture that comes with putting on eyeliner.

\--

Rey gets to the bar ten minutes too early, too nervous to loiter in her apartment for a second longer. She’s wearing one of the pieces that usually linger at the back of her closet; a faded blue sundress that doesn’t even have pockets but it goes with the tan jacket she found at the Goodwill well enough so it gets worn regardless. She’d shaved her legs up to the knee and her eyelashes feel heavy from their first application of mascara in weeks but she looks casual and relaxed in a late summer sort of way.

The other girls there are exquisite, their long legs peeking out from impossibly short shorts and the outfit that had taken twenty minutes to pick out now seems impossibly dowdy. Her phone is burning a hole in her jacket pocket, beckoning her to cancel, but she ignores the temptation no matter how strong.

She orders a drink from the beleaguered bartender; almost downing it in one sip by the time she finally finds a vacant booth in the back far away from the hordes of sophomores boasting fake IDs. The seat feels almost hot but her mind is racing far too fast to notice. By the time she hears steps approaching the table, she’s already fired off a text to Finn and Poe telling them to call the police if they don’t hear from her by tomorrow morning and has debated vomiting twice.

Whoever is walking slides into the other side of the booth with little preamble, setting his bottle on the table, and Rey finally dares to look up from her phone. 

She expects to see Ben.

She didn’t think she’d be seeing _him_ ever again and her world stops.

\--

“Your name was supposed to Ben,” she tells him when speech finally returns to her. “It wasn’t supposed to be you.”

Kylo’s face is clean-shaven and his hair looks like he’s come straight from a shampoo commercial. She misses Ben’s scruff even if she never got the chance to feel it but she’s more nostalgic for the happy smile that had reached his eyes.

“Just my identical twin then?” His eyebrows are raised and he is every smug asshole that can’t believe her major. “Somebody who looks exactly like me that happens to live where we both go to school?

“Ben didn’t look like you,” Rey says.   “He had a beard.”

“I am Ben,” he says. His voice is very nearly a shout and she recoils even further against the cheap plastic of the booth. “The picture isn’t even that old. I’ve barely changed.”

“Bullshit,” she says. “You clearly weren’t a dick back then, Kylo.”

He opens his mouth but no words come out. It is the most silent he has ever been in her presence and it is more than a welcome change. She takes another sip of her drink and contemplates getting another one. 

The bar has a special on vodka cranberries. Even she can spare three dollars if it means making the night even slightly tolerable but instead she remains glued against the seat, glaring at him until he finally deigns to speak. 

“It isn’t Kylo anymore,” he tells her, slowly in the way that someone might talk to an ornery toddler. “I’m not here to be a dick. I’m here for the same reason you are, Rey.” 

His eyes are boring into her skull and he looks just like he did when they first met, complete with the same stupid black button-up.

“And what’s that then?”

“To get to know you,” he says matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do on a date? Get to know the other person and decide whether you like each other enough to do it again.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rey replies. “I usually assume dates with rich assholes end with me having to walk home while their friends make fun of me in the next room.' 

Her eyes might very well roll out of her head by the time he finally thinks to answer.

“I’m not rich, Rey.”

He’s missing the point entirely but that’s hardly surprising. Her vision grows even redder but she does her best to keep from pulling his hair out, strand by perfect strand.

“Did you have your own room growing up?” 

“Yes,” he says. “But I was an only child. I would have had my own room pretty much anywhere.”

She interrupts before his reasoning can take hold, letting him have it in all of the ways she had imagined doing when arguing with herself in the shower.

“Have you ever seen your fridge empty for almost weeks on end?” She asks him. “Did you ever come home and cry from relief because somebody finally had enough money to get a loaf of bread?”

“I haven’t,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what its like…”

“You will never know what it’s like,” Rey snarls. She crumples the plastic in her fist and feels drunk on her anger. “You don’t get to pretend that you’re anything like me.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying I was eighteen and an idiot,” he tells her. “You apparently think that I’m the worst person who has ever existed but did it ever cross your mind that I might be aware of how shitty I was.”

He sips his beer and the bottle looks almost small in his hands. He has nice fingers and she hates her body for finding them so appetizing.

“Look,” he says after another pause. “I thought you knew it was me when we were talking. I thought you’d have forgiven me by now.”

“Well I haven’t,” she says coldly. “You could have apologized.”

“You said you never wanted to see me again,” he says. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to just read your mind and know that you wanted me to hold a boom box outside of your window.”

They sit in a frosty silence; one that reminds her of aimless weekends spent huddled over schoolwork when everyone else in the home was asleep. Her cup is well beyond saving and she starts shredding the damp cocktail napkin that had come with her drink. Each tear is far more satisfying than it should be and the paper is nearly confetti by the time his staring forces her to speak.

“I wanted you to at least do something,” she says, more to herself than anyone else. “Anything would have been better than nothing.”

It’s almost an afterthought but he perks up the moment she begins to talk. His edges soften but the small sort of smile on his face leaves a bad taste in her mouth. It isn’t the luminous sort of grin that had been on his profile, but an almost patronizing kind. It’s the type of smile that people always wear when they’ve decided to pity little orphan Rey, one that usually proceeds a shitty motivational speech or awkwardly timed shoulder pat.

“ _Rey_ …”

He says her name with a tenderness that nobody in the world has ever used but she cuts him off before he can start whatever monologue he must have rehearsed on the way over.

“I should go,” she tells him. “It was good to see you, Kylo.”

The bitterness in her voice is almost gone but he looks almost wounded when she slides out of the booth. His eyes are enormous and her stomach twinges with something that doesn’t feel like relief.

Kanata’s always blares its music far too loud but she finds herself listening for someone behind her nonetheless. She walks out the door without looking back at him, willing the hurt in his eyes to disappear from her mind.

\-- 

It’s colder than she had expected and her skin prickles with the first hints of autumn. Rey wraps her arms around her, longing for the well-worn fleece she had decided against wearing, and starts home before she can change her mind.

She’s barely two blocks down the street when she hears someone running behind her. Kylo’s strides are long and it takes no time at all for him to catch up. He’s walking backwards like one of the campus tour guides and he looks far more invigorated than he had in the bar.

“I’m an asshole.”

It’s the most genuine thing he’s said all night and she stops in her tracks,

“I’m aware,” she says but he’s not quite finished. He looks down at her with a fire in his eyes and the neon signs of the nearby liquor store bathe his pale skin in an unworldly glow.

“I know you are. I fucked up and I’m sorry,” he says plainly. “I should have apologized then but I’m apologizing now because you clearly want nothing to do with me and I will never get another chance to let you know just how much I regret being shitty to you… You didn’t deserve it then and you definitely don’t deserve it now.”

He nods at her before turning to leave, nearly gone from her life forever before her body ruins it all.

Her stomach rumbles and there is no way that he can’t hear it. It’s enough to make her wish they were back in the bar, sitting on sticky vinyl and shouting over music that is far too loud. She hasn’t eaten since being at Finn and Poe’s apartment and the memory of their overabundance of Chinese takeout makes her stomach roar again.”

Much to his credit, Ben or Kylo or whatever his name is today doesn’t make too big of a deal out of it.

“I’m getting a hotdog,” he says bluntly, turning around as though her stomach had never sounded at all. “You want one?”

She answers with a nod, already too seduced by the promise of bread and meat to say no, and they begin the silent trek to the late-night hot dog place down the block. The smell of grilled onions reaches her nose before they reach the restaurant and her mouth nearly waters right there.

He orders a standard hot dog so she does too, adamant in her refusal to order anything that costs even a quarter more than his food. The man at the register is brisk to the point of rudeness but she finds herself more in awe of him than not when he tells off a pack of drunken freshmen for not knowing their order.

They don’t talk while they wait and there really isn’t any need. The hot dog is a better apology than any of his previous attempts but even then she’s sure that Kylo is more than capable of ruining the uneasy peace they’ve made.

He slides a dollar into the tip jar when he thinks she isn’t looking and she very nearly smiles despite her sincere attempts to present nothing but neutrality. 

They get their order within minutes and she loads up her hot dog with as many condiments as will fit on the bun, heaping it full of ketchup, relish, and onions before heading outside. Her date follows soon after, his hot dog adorned only with a lonely line of mustard.

There’s an empty patch of sidewalk only a few feet down and they sit together without discussing it further. Her hot dog is half eaten by the time she sits down and Rey forces herself to savor the last few bites. The warmth of the food floods through her and its almost enough to make her forget the chill and the present company.

He eats slowly, adopting the leisurely pace of someone who has never fought for scraps, but Rey is at least polite enough to wait for her benefactor to finish his meal before letting the memory of their attempted date fade into the night. 

“Thank you for the hot dog,” Rey tells him once he’s finished. It’s the first they’ve talked in almost half an hour and he makes a non-committal noise in response.

“You’re welcome,” he tells her. He reaches a hand out for her wrapper and she passes it over, watching him crumple the pair of them together before throwing them in the nearby trash. The wrappers skim the rim but they ultimately end up landing with a dull sort of thud in the trashcan.

If she were with Poe, she’d applaud at the astounding feat of athleticism. But she’s with Kylo so she stays quiet until he forces her to be otherwise. 

\--

“Do you hate me less now that you’ve eaten?”

It’s a fair enough question and she decides to give him an honest answer.

“Am I an asshole if I say yes?”

He smirks, not snidely but in an amused sort of way, before turning toward her. His face is almost soft and she feels almost comfortable for the first time in hours.

“Can we start over?”

He sounds so earnest and she finds herself nodding in agreement before reason can take over.

“Good,” he says. “I’m Ben Solo by the way.”

He holds out his hand and she shakes it with all of the wariness of a job interview. His palm is warm and her heart almost skips a beat.

“Rey Kenobi, “ she says matter-of-factly.

He smiles at her with imperfect teeth and her cheeks glow with something that can’t just be three-dollar vodka cranberries. They sit on the curb in a now familiar silence, the only noise coming from the roar of the occasional car.

“So why Kylo?” Rey asks. “Ben is a perfectly decent name. I don’t get why you wanted to change it.”

“I wanted to be someone else,” Ben says with a shrug of his shoulders. “It seemed easier to do that with a different name.”

“Even a stupid one?”

He lets out a bark of a laugh. He has a nice laugh, one that grows more cheerful by the second, and she can’t help but join in.

“I didn’t think it was that bad but seventeen year olds aren’t really known for their creativity,” he said. “But you’re in good company… my father has no problems telling me how ridiculous I sounded.”

“Your dad sounds smart,” Rey says simply with a shrug of her shoulders. She can’t imagine what parent had to endure the angst-ridden adolescence that had inspired such a pretentious name but whoever his father is, he deserves a medal.

“He really isn’t,” Ben says. “But I’m learning to live with it.”

Their truce leads into a flurry of alright small talk; one that broaches all of the conversational topics normal people would mention on a date. He doesn’t bring up the past and she does her best to follow his lead, focusing instead on the easy way he describes his major seminar with an assuredness he must have only acquired recently.

He listens to her drone on about her classes, laughing in all the right places when she complains about how most of her free time fixing laptops that are much nicer than the desktop she built herself.

It feels like they’re starting a conversation they began long ago. It should be boring but it isn’t.

\--

“I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to see you again,” he tells her. They’re closer than they were; sharing the distance of friends rather than unwilling acquaintances and the edge of his knee is clacking against hers. “But I knew exactly who you were as soon as I saw the first picture.”

“I’m covered in mud in that one,” she says. “That was supposed to be a tool deterrent.”

“It clearly didn’t work. You were cute,” Ben says, pausing before he rambles even more. “I mean, you’re still cute but it was pretty adorable.”

Rey cocks an eyebrow and she can almost see his cheeks blush in the shoddy light of the streetlamp. His leg is hot against hers even through the fabric of his jeans. He’s close enough that she can smell him and the scent of soap and musk makes her stomach knot in a way it hasn’t for months.

“You’re alright too,” she says, trying her best to seem nonchalant. “I guess.”

He grins and her heart leaps in her chest.

“Clearly _alright_ enough to merit a swipe right,” Ben says. “That’s all that matters.”

It’s late enough that the street is virtually deserted save for the few stragglers drunkenly buying donuts across the street and the quiet that surrounds them is almost suffocating. There’s a heat in it, something Ben is hopefully feeling to, but Rey feels nervous despite herself.

Rey keeps looking over at him, her eyes darting to his lips whenever she dares to steal a glance. She feels his eyes on her, nearly melting her flesh entirely, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating to be so observed.

It goes on for what feels like hours but Ben refuses to let it be.

“What do you want to do now?”

The question looms between them and there are so many answers that she doesn’t even know where to start. She could go home right now, take off what little makeup that she put on and pretend tonight never happened. It’ll just be a memory she shares with Finn at their usual table in the library, nothing less and certainly nothing more. Life will return to normalcy and Ben will be just as far away as Kylo was. The idea is a frightening one and Rey tells the truth before she can muster up the courage to lie.

“I’m not sure,” Rey says with a shrug of her shoulders. “We could make out.”

Ben looks startled in a happy sort of way and the distance between their faces grows even smaller.

“Sounds good to me,” Ben says, voice almost a whisper but Rey closes the distance between them before he can say anything else. 

He tastes like pretentious beer and yellow mustard but her breath must stink far worse. Either way, it hardly matters now.

 --

Ben kisses her like he’s been waiting to do it all night, starting off slow before sucking tenderly on her bottom lip. His hand finds her waist like he’s held her a million times and she’s almost surprised by how gentle he is.

Rey forgets about how her legs are nearly frozen off, about just how hours ago she’d have slapped herself for exploring him so thoroughly but she can’t help it. He makes almost a moan whenever she wrests control of the kiss from him and she wants to take over completely, to subdue him in the only way she knows how.

She is desperate but he is tender, kissing a trail down her neck with a reverence no other partner has ever shown her, so she wills herself to slow to his slow, maddening pace.

Ben finds her lips once more but there’s only time enough for a brief peck before he speaks. 

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

Their foreheads are pressed together and the huskiness in his voice is the best thing she’s heard all night. Even then, his voice is question and not a presumption and it is one that she is happy to answer.

“Yeah,” she says with no hesitation. “I think we should.”


	2. Date One (Cont.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If someone had told Rey yesterday that she'd be in Ben Solo's bed, begging him for more; she'd have laughed them out of the room.   
> Little did she know....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My life is incredibly chaotic right now for lots of not fun reasons (i.e. law school, various other thing). Writing fic makes me happy. Writing this fic makes me happy. Updates won't come as often as I'd like because I need to prioritize school , my health, my partner's health, and making sure my apartment isn't a terrible place to live but I am trying to keep up with things. 
> 
> Thanks to all who have left comments, kudos, bookmarks, and whatnot. You are all incredibly wonderful thoughtful people and you make this worth it.

Ben’s apartment is nicer than hers but that’s hardly surprising. Any place that doesn’t have errant dishes strewn all about the common areas is nicer than hers and Ben’s living room is almost inhumanly tidy, a testament to the power that comes with affording a decent place.

The place is immaculately decorated and the furniture doesn’t look like it came from Ikea but it’s nothing like she would have imagined. It’s more of an old boy’s club than an actual living space and Ben hardly seems the preppy type if the faded black jeans he wears are any indication. The couch hardly looks lived in and the kitchen is spotless enough to make her think it hasn’t been used in days but the luxury overwhelms her nonetheless.

Rey must be openly gawking now but if Ben notices he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s been holding her hand since the walk over and his heat is almost enough to soothe her nerves away.

“You have a nice place,” she says and he looks almost embarrassed to hear it. “Like really nice.”

“My roommate did it, not me,” Ben tells her. “His dad offered to pay for everything and it was easier to just let it happen than give any input.”

The place makes more sense now but she still looks for traces of Ben in the common spaces even if the only one she can find is a pair of tennis shoes hidden underneath the coffee table. There’s a fraternity paddle in the corner, something black and red and ridiculous, and she can only hope that it belongs to the nameless roommate who lurks sight unseen.

“He’s gone for the night,” Ben says after a moment. “Probably terrifying freshmen dumb enough to pledge.”

It’s hardly a subtle mention but she’s grateful for the notice regardless. He hasn’t kissed her again yet and there’s an ache in her bones with how much she wants him to do it.

But it seems she still has more time to wait.

“Do you want anything?” Ben asks, the picture of the perfect host. “Water? Beer?” 

“I’ll take a beer,” she replies. He squeezes her hand before he lets go of it, heading into the immaculate kitchen that bears no signs of life. “Where should I sit?”

“Couch if you’d like,” he says. He sets the two dark overpriced bottles in his hands on the counter. “Or bedroom if you want. It’s the one on the left.”

His voice almost sounds nonchalant and Rey swallows the nervousness in her throat before answering.

“Bedroom is fine,” she says and Ben’s lip curls upward in the ghost of a smile. She sounds much bolder than she usually is. She almost even feels like it. 

She’s in his bedroom by the time she can hear the sound of lids being opened and her heart almost beats just as loudly.

\--

His bedroom is decidedly unlike the rest of the apartment but she finds herself preferring it far more. It’s tidy enough to look presentable but the slight rumple of his sheets and the pile of papers on the desk put her at ease. It doesn’t look like Ben had been expecting company but her observations are almost put entirely out of mind by the time she sinks onto the bed. She takes off her jacket before he gets back, patting the bulky pockets holding her wallet and phone almost absent-mindedly, and sets it gently on his desk chair.

Her arms are bare but she feels almost impossibly hot as he enters the room. He hands her a beer and she immediately drinks a third of the bottle. It’s too bitter to be anything she would have selected herself but the meager buzz she had cultivated earlier is threatening to fade so down it goes. 

Rey sets the bottle down on the coffee table and she watches as Ben takes another leisurely sip. He is almost eerily calm as he puts his bottle down and she finds herself envying him for it.

“Hey,” he says softly. His face is so close to hers and she can make out every mole on his face. He licks his lips-his stupid, pretty lips- absentmindedly and she can’t help but gulp.

“Hey,” Rey replies and then he kisses her.

It’s just as nice as the first time he kissed her and she notes with some smugness the minty aftertaste lingering on his breath, proof of the gum he must have chewed in the kitchen when she wasn’t looking.

They kiss for what might be minutes or hours, and his mouth only leaves hers to find the sweet spot high on her neck. He’s still gentle but Ben’s movements feel more purposeful now, like he has no other choice to explore every inch of her skin. His lips are swollen and she can’t help but moan, but he seems insistent on taking his time, making her come undone without even taking off her clothes. 

It’s only when she slides her hands up his shirt, her nails digging into the wide expanse of his back, that she sees his restraint come undone. Rey is pressed back against the bed within seconds and his body is a pleasant weight on top of her. His height isn’t a secret but it’s only now that she realizes just how _big_ he is. His shoulders are wide and his hands would be sure to dwarf hers if she took the time to compare. It’s a little imposing but it’s mostly just hot and she spreads her legs wide enough to welcome him in.

Rey rubs herself against him and she can feel how hard he is through the fabric of his jeans. Ben groans into her mouth and starts to thrust his cock to meet the cant of her hips. It starts off slow and then it is anything but, something rushed and needy. He rubs against her clit with a imprecise sort of rhythm and she sucks hard on his neck, leaving what is sure to be an incriminating set of marks.

Something falls out of his jeans pocket and Ben freezes almost immediately. He does his best to grab it but he’s not quite quick enough. She starts laughing as soon as her mind recognizes the gold foil of the wrapper and Ben’s pale skin radiates with the hint of a blush. She grabs the condom from his comforter before he has a chance to fetch it, holding it up in front of his face like some perverted Charlie Bucket.

“Really?”

He has the decency to look a little ashamed, but she can still feel the bulge in his pants pressed between her legs.

“You wanted to meet after midnight at the grossest bar near campus,” Ben says, more amused than annoyed at her inability to take any of this too seriously. “It didn’t seem unreasonable to think that this would just be a hookup.”

He snatches the condom from her fingers and tosses it to the side. It falls with a miniscule thud against his desk and then he focuses his attentions on her once more.

He doesn’t kiss her again and she doesn’t attempt to kiss him, basking instead in the lull his words have forced on them. 

Maybe the night is just making her delusional. Maybe she is seeing too much.

“Is that what you want this to be?” She asks, staring at his eyes. His pupils are enormous and she can’t look away. “Is this just a hookup?”

She sounds like every insecure leading lady in the romantic comedies Poe pretends he doesn’t binge watch and she hates the way she waits to hear his answer.

“It can be if you want,” he says quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

She reaches up and brushes the hair from where it hangs onto his face. It’s soft, maybe even more delicate than she thought it would be when he had walked into the bar.

“And if I don’t?”

\--

Time freezes and she can feel her heart throbbing against the cotton of her dress.

It only starts again when he leans to press a chaste kiss against the side of her palm, his mouth widening into an already familiar smile.

“Then it won’t be,” Ben tells her. “I promise.”

He kisses her then before she has a chance to process what he just said and she almost forgets why she had interrupted him in the first place. He’s a good kisser, using his plump lips in a way that makes her toes curl. There’s the perfect amount of tongue exploring her mouth, the perfect amount of sharpened teeth nibbling at her bottom lip, and she hopes that her own lack of practical experience isn’t shining through.

It’s been ages since she’s been kissed, let alone kissed by someone who is so intent on perfecting the art, but there’s something about kissing Ben that feels like she’s done it all her life.

Rey rolls on top of him at some point, straddling his hips between her legs. She can feel his cock twitch in appreciation and she sets about unbuttoning his shirt with an enthusiasm that surprises even her. She pulls the fabric down at the shoulders, yanking it lower until Ben finally eases her torment by speeding the process along.

His chest is somehow paler than his face and the muscle he has looks almost accidental rather than deliberately acquired. It’s purposeful, not the kind of showy physique that the bros on campus try to expose at every opportunity, and she fights the urge to lick her way down to the trail of dark hair just above his belt.

Her hands find the edges of her dress before she can even begin to think. She isn’t thinking, just wanting; and all she wants is to feel even more of him.

She yanks her dress over her head, exposing the lone non-nude, non-black bra in her collection. It’s more cute than sexy, white fabric adorned with a functionless bow, but Ben’s face lights up as soon as her dress hits the floor.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says under his breath. His hands run up her sides, hot and giant on her bare skin as they move toward her breasts. She leans forward, not enough to kiss him but enough to allow him better access and Ben takes fair advantage of the opportunity. He kneads with her breasts with the same tenderness he has used to kiss her and he lets out a shaky exhale as his hands dart almost timidly beneath the fabric.

Her nipples harden under his touch and she closes the distance between their mouths once again. She moans and he bucks up against her, grinding against where she needs him most. The friction feels wonderful but it’s not nearly enough to satisfy and she’s nearly whining by the time he manages to remove her bra.

Ben has flipped them over before she has a chance to process it, spurred by something primal that Rey finds herself liking far too much. He lavishes her breasts with his mouth, his hands darting lower until they just barely skim the outside of her underwear. She’s absolutely soaked and there’s no way he doesn’t notice even if he hasn’t dared to explore further.

He lifts his head from where he’s worshiping her skin, looking absolutely depraved, and mercifully says the best thing she’s heard all night.

“Can I go down on you?”

\--

She nods and he grins wickedly at her.

“Scoot back,” he commands in a gruff voice and she does exactly as she’s told, resting her head against his pillows.

He yanks her underwear down her thighs, barely waiting until it falls against the comforter to bury his face between her legs. She almost apologizes for the unkemptness of her pubic hair but the way he devours her is proof enough that he doesn’t seem to mind.

If he’s a good kisser, then he’s practically a god of eating her out. Ben licks her like it is the only thing he wants to do, the only thing he needs, and if she was already wet then she is positively dripping. He’s only using his mouth, suckling on her clit with his too-pretty lips, and she nearly rips his comforter in two with how hard she’s holding on.

The sounds she’s making are totally undignified, a mix of swears and broken groans, and she can feel his moans rumbling against her skin. She cants her hips upwards, silently begging for more, and she nearly cries from happiness when he finally slides a finger inside of her.

He starts almost too gently but only seconds pass before he’s sped up the pace. His tongue is unyielding and before she knows it, he has two of his thick fingers buried as deep as they can go.

He crooks them just right and she comes so hard that it’s almost painful. Her head slams back against the headboard but he doesn’t stop until she nearly breaks his nose with her pelvis.

He looks just as smug as he deserves to be but she’ll deal with it after she’s done with him.

“You should fuck me now,” Rey tells him. She’s practically pulling his hair and she sounds almost as desperate as she feels. 

“I will,” Ben says, curling his fingers upward once more. She moans and he smirks, clearly satisfied with her reaction. “You just have to ask nicely.”

“Fuck me now,” she commands. He grins but he doesn’t move, and she sighs before fulfilling his request. “ _Please.”_

Ben practically leaps off the bed as soon as the words leave her mouth. Ben yanks off his jeans and she catches a glimpse of black boxer briefs before they too fall to the floor. His cock is just like the rest of him, big and thick and tempting, but she’s far too taken by the precum leaking from the tip to be intimidated.

He rolls the condom onto his cock and she rewards him with another kiss the moment he is back on the bed. It’s sloppy and their teeth practically clack together but she’s too far-gone to care. They kiss and she tilts her hips to feel more of him, to feel his cock jutting against her.

His lips are on hers when he slides inside her and Rey groans before she can stop herself. She’s soaked but he’s thick and she can feel the way she’s stretched tight around him.

Ben starts off slow and she’s grateful for it, grateful for the tang of his lips as he slides in and out of her. Part of her wants to keep this pace, to savor every moment he’s inside her, but it’s a part that the rest of her body is desperate to overrule.

It becomes very clear that she’s not the only one dealing with the same dilemma. He’s panting beside her ear now and her mouth is practically glued to his neck.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers as he thrusts into her. “I fucking love your pussy, Rey.”

“Then fuck me harder,” she tells him. Her voice sounds like it comes from someone else, someone sexy who she doesn’t recognize in the slightest. “I know you want to.”

Her nails dig into his back and she’s pretty sure he growls before finally giving her what they both want. He rams into her hard, his groans getting louder and louder. She didn’t think it was possible but somehow his cock swells even more and it feels so good she can barely breathe. It’s all she can do to grip him harder, clinging as tight as he can until his body starts to tense,

He comes biting down on her neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to drive any other thoughts out of her mind as he collapses.

She can feel his heart racing against her skin, can feel his breath hot on her neck and shoulder. He presses a kiss against her cheek but he seems too drained to do much of anything else.

His chest is slick with sweat and they may very well stick together if she doesn’t get out from under him soon so she taps him on the shoulder until he comes out of his stupor. He pulls out, flopping beside her with eyes still dazed. Her legs are still shaking so the whole process isn’t particularly graceful and she almost knees him in the stomach when he tries to adjust but it’s a lot more pleasant to lie next to him than be glued beneath.

Ben peels the condom off, tying it in a knot before letting it fall with a thud into the trashcan beside his bed. He wraps an arm around her without saying a word and she lets herself nuzzle closer even if it’s far too hot to be so close. 

They linger in the afterglow for about ten minutes, their contented silence only broken by the occasional kiss. There’s no urgency now but even his leisurely kisses feel too decadent to be real.

\--

“Do you want to stay the night?” It’s barely a question and Ben’s voice is bleary with sleep. They both know what her answer is going to be but it still feels nice to be asked. 

“Alright,” Rey tells him with no hesitation. “But I need to set an alarm.”

Ben responds with a non-committal noise of agreement before pressing his lips against the top of her head. It’s sweet and it’s almost more intimate than the sex they just had, tender in a way that getting off can’t pretend to be. 

She forces herself to get off the bed before sleep can set in, the ghosts of urinary tract infections past looming in her head as she makes the grudging journey to the bathroom.

When she checks her jacket pocket, she finds proof of Finn’s platonic devotion. There’s a text from him that’s about two hours old, a message that is simultaneously melodramatic and touching, and she hopes the reply she sends before setting her alarm will be more than enough to appease him for the time being.

Her dress must be somewhere but she can’t see it on the floor. His roommate is still gone, or at least she thinks he is, but years of forced cohabitation are enough to deter her from ever being anything less than dressed in a common space.

Instead, she grabs her panties from where they dangle off the foot of the bed and picks his shirt up from the floor. It practically hangs off of her but the flannel feels almost homey on her skin. It smells like him and she feels almost dirty for liking it so much, for breathing in the scent of detergent and musk like it’s a rare cologne.

Ben seems to enjoy the whole grooming experience for very different reasons.

“You look cute in my shirt,” he tells her. His head is just barely propped up and his mane of hair is haphazard.

She sticks her tongue out at him and he laughs.

“I mean it,” Ben says. “I should just let you keep it.”

“I’m actually good on shirts,” Rey says as she slides her underwear back on. The shirt is more than long enough to cover her ass but she’d rather be safe than sorry. “But I’ll let you know if I decide to start dressing like a goth hipster.”

“Wearing black doesn’t make you goth,” he tells her, voice riddled with smugness and sleep. “It’s practical.”

 She rolls her eyes but lets him have the last word before heading out into the wilds of the hall.

\--

His bathroom is just as tidy as the rest of the apartment and just as unforgivably male. The counter is free of clutter and there’s a lone red towel hanging on the wall. The trashcan doesn’t have a lid because why would it and she can’t help but think of the problems such an arrangement might pose in the future. But it’s far too early for thoughts like those to exist and she does her best to force herself to pee without thinking too hard about it.

She washes her hands, more amused than annoyed at the personality-free hand soap, and evaluates the damage done in the mirror. 

If there are any hickeys, then Ben’s shirt covers them, but there’s more than enough evidence of the sex she just had.

The lighting in the bathroom isn’t great but there’s no mistaking her glow. Her cheeks are rosy and it looks like she’s wearing the highlighter that rests untouched at the bottom of her makeup bag.

Her hair is a different story. It is falling out of its bun and even the hasty braid she puts it in isn’t enough to truly tame it. Even if she were fully dressed, there’d be no hiding what just happened in Ben Solo’s bedroom and so she lets it fall wild and untamed to her shoulders.

Rey can’t tell which toothbrush is his but there’s a bottle of mouthwash on the counter that doesn’t look too gross. She swishes the liquid in her mouth, enduring the minty burn for a minute until finally spitting it out in the sink. The temptation to delve into his medicine cabinet is a strong one but she manages to overcome it.

She leaves the bathroom before she can think of another excuse to hide, sparing the wild girl in the mirror one last parting look.

\--

He’s sprawled half-asleep on his bed, clad only in his boxer briefs. He lifts his head when she shuts the door and she spots what looks like a bite mark low on his neck. She would almost say he looks debauched but the exhaustion on his face softens the proof of her destruction.

He settles back against the bed, thoroughly untroubled, and she moves in next to him. She lies down on her side, curled up as small as she can manage under the blankets.

She’s in ~~Kylo~~ Ben’s bed, wearing his shirt, and reeking of sex. The Rey from twenty-four hours ago would have hung her in shame and the doubt that had all but disappeared the moment he kissed her returns with a vengeance.

Ben doesn’t have an alarm clock but she stares at the wall for what feels like hours until she hears him jostle awake.

“I can hear you thinking,” Ben mutters. His voice is so grumbly she almost doesn’t understand him but he turns on his side, shifting toward her until his chest is pressed against her back. “It’s time for sleep.”

“I know.” She’s barely holding in a yawn and the heat of his body is melting what little of her resolve she has left.

“Good night, Rey,” he says. She feels a kiss against the back of her head and soon only the steady rise and fall of his chest lodged against her.

\--

At some point , she finally falls asleep.


	3. "Date" Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's not sure if going to his place at eleven is a date but it definitely is something...
> 
> Otherwise known as "Annoying Roommates and Murphy's Law"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope you are all having a great 2017 thus far.   
> Thank you all for being so gracious about my self-imposed hiatus (I can assure you I'd much rather write fanfic than take final exams) and for being so supportive of this fic. I love writing a non-angsty Reylo fic and I'm so glad it has been so warmly received. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave whatever feedback you'd like. Even the smallest note makes a world of difference. 
> 
> Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy. I'm not as scary as I seem. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!

Rey leaves Ben’s place way too early and she’s still half-asleep by the time she gets back to her apartment to change. 

There’s a smattering of hickeys below her collar bone and for the first time in forever, she’s actually glad to wear the rust-colored polo shirt Unkar makes all of his tech support slaves wear during their shift.

She finds herself yawning through the entire day, only resembling a member of polite society when she thinks about the sleepy kiss Ben had given her at the door. He had made no mention of bailing but she relives the evening over and over, looking for any signs that he might go back on his pre-coital promise.

But apparently she isn’t the only one distracted. Her boss is yelling at the power company for most of the day and the three customers who come in barely look up from their brand new iPhones with cracked screens. It’s as relaxing as a morning shift can be and she slips out at exactly two after giving Unkar a glib wave of her hand. For a second he looks angry, but she’ll never be more grateful for public utilities for distracting him so completely.

She checks her phone as she heads out the door. The screen is blank.

\--

Her backpack feels heavier than normal as she makes her way back onto campus. She’d blame it on her fatigue but it’s a lot easier to blame it on tall assholes that don’t text you as quickly as you’d like.

Finn has their usual table and is armed to the teeth with two giant iced coffees, one covered in whipped cream and one that actually resembles an adult drink . There’s a stack of rumpled papers all around him, covered in the chicken scratch that only he can read, and life feels almost normal.

She downs her drink before he has a chance to say anything, basking in the salvation of caffeine. An immediate calm washes over her and the world is good and pure as she sets in on her work.

“I take it your date went well,” Finn says. He sounds almost like he’s gloating and he waggles an eyebrow in her direction.

“What makes you say that?”

She doesn’t even bother to look up from her problem set, staring at the facts and figures that have no interest whatsoever in her private life.

“You didn’t get murdered,” he tells her. “And you’ve got a giant hickey under your collar.”

The polo shirt is her enemy once more and she strongly considers investing in a series of chaste turtlenecks.

“When do we get to meet this mystery man?”

She shrugs her shoulders and it’s clearly not the answer he wanted. But she has no desire to see the look of disappointment on his face when he sees just who so thoroughly debauched her.

“Party pooper,” he insists but he doesn’t sound any less amused. “But have it your way if you must.”

He sighs dramatically and she snorts through her nose as he pretends to get back to the paper he should have started a week ago. She lets herself get distracted by her work and tries not to look too excited when her phone vibrates in her pocket.

Much to Finn’s dismay, she doesn’t read it until he’s left to get another sugar laced drink. Much to Finn’s dismay, she doesn’t say what it said when he asks about why she suddenly seems so cheerful.

But the message shines bright in her mind and she almost blushes when it replays over and over.

**I hope you actually let me buy you a drink next time.**

\-- 

They text back and forth for the next week, sticking mostly to the pleasantries that allow her to pretend things are easy and uncomplicated. There are the standard questions about how school is going but they do their best to find common ground on things that aren’t slightly drunken sex.

He hates climbing or anything green and crisp and she’s never been a fan of sitting in the few bars left that still let people smoke inside. He’s never up before nine and she can barely stay up past midnight. It feels almost like some overplayed Taylor Swift song- he wears all black, she dresses like a normal human being- but she can’t deny that there’s something drawing her back even when she can’t forget the last time she felt like this.

But that was almost four years ago. That was Kylo and this is Ben.

Ben wouldn’t let things end before they even had a chance to get started.

\--

Work is too understaffed for her to have any time for an actual date and she returns to her apartment on Saturday night more eager for sleep than the promise of seeing the boy who has been teasing her for days.

Unfortunately, her roommates seem convinced that sleep is for the weak. There are forty people crammed into their tiny apartment and if it weren’t for the handle of vodka she steals off the counter as a bribe, she’d be sorely tempted to report a noise complaint to their elderly landlord.

She hides the bottle under the bed, debating whether to high tail it to Finn and Poe’s lovely, quiet apartment, when a text catches her attention.

**Is work still holding you hostage?**

It’s before ten, so it’s not quite a booty call. But only just.

_My roommates are having a party. I can barely hear myself think._

**It’s quiet over here. Do you want to come over?**

_Subtle_

His response is immediate and unashamed.

**Is that a yes?**

But then again, so is hers.

_Yes_

She exchanges her polo shirt for a fitted navy V-neck but not before changing her bra and underwear to a matching black set. They nearly burn a hole through her clothing but it lets her feel far more adult than the situation warrants. 

If she puts on a coat of mascara before heading out the door, then it is simply a happy little accident.

\--

The building has an intercom but before she has a chance to buzz his apartment, she sees him waiting inside the lobby, leaning against the mailboxes like some misguided rebel in a teen movie. He spots her at almost the same time and opens the door with a speed that would be terrifying if it weren’t quite so endearing. 

He opens the outer door and they stand in the awkward silence of people who are unsure of what they mean to one another.

Rey debates just going in, not adding unnecessary complication to what is already stilted enough, but his lips find hers before she has time to decide.

The kiss is sweet and all-too quick and her nerves turn into something else entirely by the time he pulls away.

“I’m glad you came over,” he says before ushering her inside. His hand is slung over her shoulder as they head towards his apartment and it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

She leans against him, breathing in the musk that immediately transports her to the last time they met. 

“I’m glad I came too.”

\--

The apartment is once again empty except for them and she is starting to think the fabled roommate doesn’t really exist. The whole atmosphere is decidedly booty call-like and if she weren’t so eager to get what she came for, she would be embarrassed at just how cliché this all feels.

“Do you want to watch something?” Ben asks. “My laptop is in the bedroom.”

It’s a shoddy excuse to get on the bed but it’s one she accepts with a nod nonetheless.

“I’ll get beers then,” he tells her. “ See if you can find something on Netflix.”

\--

They can’t agree on what to watch. He’s already seen every movie she’s suggested and she vetoes all of his choices on the grounds that she can either read subtitles or make out, she can’t do both. They end up settling on _It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia_ , one of the few shows they both admit to watching and something that very quickly becomes background noise.

They start making out almost as soon as the episode starts. It doesn’t feel like the prelude to the sex they will inevitably have, but just kissing for the sake of kissing, and there’s something so endearingly _nice_ about it. It feels intimate, more loving than primal, and she’s sorely tempted to just spend their time together smelling his neck.

She has no idea how much time has passed but soon enough she recognizes the opening lines of _“_ The Nightman Cometh” and rolls off of him immediately.

Ben lifts his head and she almost laughs at how befuddled he looks with his kiss-swollen lips and rumpled shirt.

“This is the best episode,” she tells him. “We’ll fool around after.”

He raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t protest. Instead, he wraps an arm around her and settles back against the pillows. She burrows against his chest without even thinking and together they stare at his laptop screen.

The last thing she remembers is Ben humming off-key.

\--

She shakes awake somewhere in the middle of season five.

“You falling asleep on me, Kenobi?”

The slobber barely escaping the edge of her mouth is proof enough of his accusation but she’s never been one to make things easy. 

“No,” she grumbles without making an effort to get up. There’s a puddle of drool on his shirt and she would be embarrassed if it didn’t require so much energy.

“Sleep,” he nearly commands. “You’re getting all grouchy.”

“I’m never grouchy,” she mutters and he laughs.

“Of course you aren’t,” he says, pretending to believe her. “But you should still probably go to bed before you are.” 

Much to her dismay, he adjusts to grab the flannel blanket at the foot of his bed. He drapes it over her before turning the volume down on the laptop.

She’s fading fast but even now she likes the way quiet way he dotes on her.

“We’ll have sex tomorrow,” she mutters, more to herself than anyone else, and she can hear him try and stifle another laugh.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says softly.

He kisses her forehead and she fades happily back to sleep.

\--

She gets up hours before her alarm even starts, roused by something that wasn’t supposed to come for another three days.

Her underwear is all but ruined and she can feel a sticky patch lurking underneath her and staining her jeans.

“Shit,” she mutters under breath. “Shit, shit, shit” 

Ben isn’t lodged up against her, so he escapes being covered in the lining of her treacherous uterus although that is the only consolation she has. She gets out of bed as quickly as she can but the jostling rustles her bedmate awake. 

“Morning,” Ben grumbles. He smiles that weary smile she’s already become so fond of before starting to lean over for what would likely be a superior kiss. He rolls over and she practically hisses as he almost ends up in the mess she made.

“Don’t,” she insists and he finally sees the source of her anguish. “Just don’t.”

He stares at it for a second before looking back at her with a stupidly fond smile. She can feel the blush burning her cheeks and she’d crawl into the trash can if she weren’t so concerned about bleeding all over it.

“I should probably change the sheets,” he says as he gingerly gets out of bed. He stretches his arms overhead and she can see the line of hair disappearing beneath the jeans he must have fallen asleep in. She hardly feels sexy right now but she’d be damned if it isn’t a nice view.

“I can put your clothes in with them if you want to just hang out for a bit,” he tells her. “You can get cleaned up and then head out once you’re not quite as Carrie-like.”

“I don’t want to bleed all over your stuff,” she insists, thinking angrily at her past self for not putting any tampons in her purse. “I should just go.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he tells her. “It’s still too early ”

“It’s almost eight,” she says. “Besides, I don’t have anything with me. I would really just be bleeding everywhere.”

“Not a problem,” Ben says with a shrug of his shoulders. “Stay here.”

She does as she’s told, trying to ignore just how grossly sticky her thighs feel until he returns. He comes back to the room with a pile of paper towels and she laughs far too hard at the triumphant smile on his face.

“This is just temporary,” he tells her. “There’s a drugstore less than a block away. I can grab whatever you need.”

She sighs but he seems far too eager to deny him the opportunity.

“Tampons then,” she says. “If you must.”

Ben hands her the paper towels before sliding on his shoes and cramming his wallet and keys into his pocket. He motions for her to sit but she refuses, dabbing instead at the decently sized pool of blood on his bed and desperately trying not to drip onto the floor.

“Do I need to get you ice cream with pickles too?”

He looks far too calm and collected for what the situation warrants and she kisses his cheek before she can stop herself.

“That’s pregnancy,” Rey says. “Not periods.”

**\--**

She starts counting the seconds until Ben returns, suppressing every voice in her head that screams for her to text Finn about just how unlucky she truly is.

If she texts Finn, she has to tell him why Murphy’s Law has so terribly abused her, and he’ll start asking questions she has no desire to answer.

He’ll want to know the name of the paramour who so bravely ventured into the feminine hygiene section of a drug store. He’ll want to know all about the guy who already seems so much better than Kylo ever was.

Her phone vibrates and she worries that Finn has suddenly become aware any time she is doing something of which he would disapprove.

\--

**This is not as simple as I was led to believe.**

Ben has sent a picture of the massive drug store display and she smirks even if he doesn’t quite deserve to endure the horrors of a well-stocked CVS.

_Just don’t get scented ones and you’ll be fine._

**They have scented ones?**

_Don’t get them!!!!! Just get a pack with multiple sizes._

_Ask the clerk if you need help_

**I am texting you so I don’t have to talk to a human being before I’ve had coffee.**

_So I’m not a human being?_

**You know what I meant. Headed back to apartment.**

\--

Ben is back five minutes later and she’s never been so happy to see anyone.

“Here,” he says, tossing the box of tampons toward her. “They’re yours.”

“Thanks,” she says, opening the box and grabbing one before setting it down on his desk.

He rummages through the chest of drawers on the side of his room and pulls out a pair of shorts and t-shirt. Both, unsurprisingly, are black.

“There should be a towel in the bathroom,” he says. “I can put your clothes in the wash once you’re done.”

**“** Ok, “ Rey says, shrugging her shoulders. “Thanks.”

She makes her way to the bathroom and sheds the clothes she is all too eager to abandon. Ben isn’t there and to be fair, she’s not quite sure she would want him to be.

 But even now, it feels odd not to be changing in front of someone who has seen every inch of her body. Rey comforts herself with the knowledge that it will be hard enough to hand him her underwear and jeans once she actually resembles a human being and does her best to feel not quite so guilty about ruining the morning.

His shower is nice, far better than hers and even better than the one at Finn and Poe’s apartment. What it lacks in sweet-smelling body wash, it more than makes up for in water pressure, and her fingers are pruned by the time she forces herself back to reality.

Rey puts on the baggy t-shirt and sleep shorts, tying the waist as tight as it will go lest the morning get any more traumatic than it already is. Her hair is sopping so she wraps it in Ben’s towel and when she looks in the mirror, she feels almost sixteen again. 

She opens the door and if the shock of tepid air from the living room wasn’t enough to shock her than the appearance of the nameless fratty roommate finishes the job.

\--

Ben’s roommate isn’t quite the bro she had been expecting. His skin is too pale and his frame too lanky to truly fit the jock stereotype but every other aspect of his appearance more than makes up for it.

His shirt is a banana yellow polo and his shorts are an almost sickening shade of coral. The ensemble is completed with a sleek watch that undoubtedly costs more than an entire month’s rent but the expression on his face, a face that looks like he smelled something foul, that lives up to her imagined expectations.

She does her best to shove her dirty clothes under her arm, attempting the civility that even the most inopportune of meetings requires. He looks like he’s about to sail off in a regatta and her entire appearance is practically screaming that she and Ben are… something. Maybe not something serious but definitely something.

“I’m Rey,” she says. “I’m Ben’s… friend.”

She holds her free hand out for him to shake and he stares like it is covered in dirt. 

“Hux,” he says curtly. He doesn’t take her hand so she lets it fall in an awkward swoop to her side.

“Hux….?”

“Just Hux,” he says exasperatedly before peering just above her eye line. “That’s my towel.”

“I didn’t know,” she replies, already unwrapping it from the top of her head. “You can have it back.”

“Just keep it,” he says with a sigh. “But tell Ben he needs to stop letting his girlfriends use my shit.”

He storms to what she assumes is his room and she questions Ben’s sanity for coexisting with such a douche.

She runs to Ben’s room before she’s forced to interact with any other assholes who might be lurking in the wings.

\-- 

“Your roommate is an asshole,” she says the moment Ben’s bedroom door shuts behind her. 

“I’m fully aware, “ Ben says. He has the CVS receipt crumpled in his palm and she watches briefly as he shreds it even further.

“He told me to tell you to stop letting girlfriends use his towels,” she says blithely. “I didn’t realize I was part of a set.”

She doesn’t mean to sound jealous and yet she hears the lack of coolness in her voice. She finishes drying her hair and folds the towel to rest on the foot of the bed.

“I have a vast and expansive harem filled with all sorts of women,” Ben says without looking at her. He shrugs his shoulders and she can feel the glower on her face. “Clearly I'm quite the ladykiller...”

She sits on the edge of his bed and fights the temptation to pry even further. She grabs her phone from his nightstand and pretends to be wildly interested in the black screen. He tosses the receipt in the trashcan and it lands with a thud.

“I don’t have an actual harem… by the way,” he says after a moment. He’s clearly straining to find the right words and she’d bask in his sudden lack of cool if she weren’t so relieved. “Hux is just trying to fuck with you. He’s like that with everyone.”

“That seems like a very natural way to tell me you’re not seeing anyone else ” Rey says, feigning the stiff upper lip her grandfather had been so determined to instill in her.

“And you?” Ben asks. He gets up from his chair and stand directly in front of her. Her legs parts almost reflexively and she angles her head to get a better look at him.

“You brought it up first. It’s only fair that you tell me about all the boyfriends you have hiding away."

“Oddly enough I’m lacking a great deal of boyfriends,” she says and he grins. “I haven’t even got one.”

“Good... because I do want to actually take you out sometime,” Ben says, cupping her chin in one hand. “Like with dinner and talking. Normal people things.”

“Sometime works for me,” Rey replies. “I’ll tell any potential boyfriends they’ll just have to wait their turn.”

“Good.” 

He kisses her and he tastes like coffee and the promise of a lie-in. Its not particularly daring but she feels every bit of it all the way down to her toes.

He pulls away and waggles his eyebrows like a cartoon villain before asking her a decidedly less stilted question. 

“Want to fool around?”

She laughs before nodding and suddenly he has pressed her against the newly made bed. Rey can taste the smile in his kiss and she laughs again when he reaches for Hux’s borrowed towel.

\--

She ends up showering at his place twice that day.

The second time, he ends up having to join her.


	4. Date Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can't remember the last time she went on a real date. It might even be the first one she's ever been on. By all accounts, it should be perfect.
> 
> Otherwise known as "Finn Finds Out and Progress is Made"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! School is done for the summer so I have time to be a good fic-type person again.   
> I'm really excited to write more of this fic for everyone so I hope you enjoy. I have a rough outline for the next few chapters so I'm hoping updates are much quicker than they have been in the past.
> 
> As always, feel free to bookmark/leave kudos/comment. I do try and respond to every comment since they make me feel all warm and sparkly inside. 
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

It takes a week or two for their schedules to line up but Ben keeps his word. 

They go on a date. A real one.

Like normal people.

Ben makes an actual reservation and she spends at least thirty minutes trying to get her hair to do something other than hang flat against her face. It almost doesn’t matter that she fails spectacularly because he smiles at her like she managed to get it right and she’s suddenly so happy that it hurts.

The sun sets as they walk downtown and he holds her hand like it is the simplest thing in the world. She wears a yellow dress that may or may not have been a castoff from one of her old roommates but it feels almost as if it were made just for her, just for tonight. If it weren’t for the enclave of homeless trust fund kids hanging by the bus stop asking if they can bum cigarettes, it would practically be a movie and everything feels far too perfect to be real. 

They go to a Mexican place, not the one by campus that sells lackluster burritos to drunken students, but the nice one all the yuppies like, the one place with a line out the door and drinks with pretentious names that cost more than what she makes an hour.

The waitress not so subtly leaves a candle on the table and Rey is so tempted to make a corny joke that she nearly knocks over what is left of the chips and salsa. It’s awkward but in the most pleasant way imaginable and it’s hard to stop smiling like an idiot as they wait for the rest of the food to arrive.

\-- 

“I think we’re supposed to make small talk now,” she says and he smiles wryly at her.

“That typically happens on dates,” Ben replies. “Or so I’ve heard.”

He’s wearing a gray button down in a fabric that looks impossibly soft and her stomach fills with the butterflies that had somehow missed the first two “hangouts.” Everything feels real now in a way it hadn’t when their interactions were confined to his bed or his Ikea swivel chair and she doubts she’ll ever get used to it. 

“What else happens?” She nudges his leg with her foot and his grin widens. “I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” he tells her. His hand is on the table, proffered hopefully, and she takes it in hers. It’s a tad sweaty but it’s more endearing than anything else, the thought that he might be just as nervous as she is. 

They’re still holding hands when the food comes, talking about the newest season of _Game of Thrones_. She catches the waitress rolling her eyes as he extols the virtues of House Lannister with a fervor that she can only describe as misguided but Rey can’t be bothered to feel anything other than smug even if she likes the Starks like a normal person. 

She’s about to have enchiladas with someone who wants to take her on actual dates. If all goes well, she will probably come at least twice before falling asleep. 

It’s as perfect a night as she can ever remember having.

\--

They fight over the check and it takes about ten minutes before she finally agrees to let Ben pay for dinner.

Her wallet is grateful but her pride isn’t and so she only relents when he promises to “let her get the next one.” It might mean that the next one is just slurpees and watching something on her computer until they end up fooling around but she’s practically floating by the time she hits the bathroom. 

Rey pees as quickly as humanly possible before fussing with the most insignificant details of her outfit. She fishes out the mostly used lip stain from her jacket pocket and reapplies it in the dim light of the restaurant bathroom before attempting once more to make her hair resemble something remotely sexy.

It’s sort of a failed effort, her hair has plans that don’t involve cooperation, but she hopes the fact that she’s had to go braless will be more than enough to offset any other aesthetic failings. 

She’s gone for just a bit too long but there’s nothing that can ruin her excitement. 

At least she thinks there is. 

\-- 

Rey hears a familiar voice calling her name and she’s too taken aback to run to the table that is only half a room away.

“Rey,” the voice says again and Rey turns her head in resignation to see an elated Finn waving from his table. Poe joins in the wave but he has the decency to look slightly more restrained given the fact that she was in the bathroom for about ten minutes. For all they know, she might have gastrointestinal issues. Severe ones.

Ben isn’t her immediate eye line and so she makes her way to the table before Finn can figure out where she’s going. It might be the first time she hasn’t been thrilled about being a third wheel. 

Finn, on the other hand, is ecstatic.

\--

“I told you that you needed to come here! Poe and I keep offering to take you with us but you’ve always said it was too pricey…” Finn says. He is talking a mile a minute and she can see his deductions occurring at a rapid pace as he wonders why she’d be at such a decadent place. 

“Now you guys don’t have to take me,” Rey says, smiling so deliberately that her cheeks begin to hurt. “But I should probably be heading out. I’ve got a huge planetary sciences midterm coming up and I haven’t studied.”

“What are you talking about? We don’t have a midterm until Halloween,” Poe says and Rey tries her hardest to shut him up using only her mind. He and Finn exchange a look and then twin smiles. 

“You wouldn’t come here unless you were ok with letting someone buy you dinner,” Finn says, his voice suddenly slowing as he puts two and two together. “It would have to be someone who didn’t know you well enough to realize that you hate paying too much for things.”

He stops, his entire face lighting up, and Rey’s stomach twists in knots as realization dawns upon them both.

“You’re with the mystery boy, aren’t you?”

Finn looks as though Christmas and the promise of a third Obama term have just occurred simultaneously. He says this with such finality, such conviction, that she’s surprised he doesn’t have a deerstalker hat and Martin Freeman lurking just behind him.

He stares so intensely her face might melt off and she lets him confirm his suspicions with a quick nod of her head.

“What mystery boy?” Poe asks but Finn fills him in before she has a chance.

“The one from Tinder,” he says and Poe looks smug.

“It’s a good thing _someone_ made you a profile then,” Poe says. “I’m glad to see my matchmaking talents aren’t going to waste now that I’m off the market.”

He winks and she tries her hardest to smile like an innocent party would. 

“We need to meet him,” Finn says and Poe nods his head in agreement.

“Nope,” she replies, attempting to make a beeline for her table, but she is unfortunately waylaid.

“I’m not going to cock block you,” Finn insists, his eyes wide like a sad puppy in an ASPCA commercial. “I might accidentally because nothing says romance like having two dudes come to your table and insist on knowing everything about you but that is definitely not my intention.” 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” she says but Finn is nothing if not persistent.

“He’ll have to meet us eventually,” he says and Rey lets out a sigh that can loosely be interpreted as a yes.

It’ll be like ripping off a Band-Aid, she rationalizes. It’s easier to tear everything off at once rather than let it linger.

Finn and Poe follow her to the table and Rey curses herself for being so quick to give in.

\--

The introduction goes as well as she had predicted it would.

\--

“Ben, this is my friend Finn,” Rey says, doing her best to sink into her chair as Finn realizes just who the mystery boy is. 

Ben offers a hand, smiling the bland smile of someone who doesn’t realize just entirely screwed he is. Finn, on the other hand, isn’t so quick to forget the sins of the past.

“We’ve met,” Finn says stiffly and Rey can feel his glare worming its way into her soul. She meets Poe’s eye but his silent apology can only do so much. “It’s good to see you again, Kylo.” 

The extended hand lingers far too long so Ben attempts to nonchalantly replace his arm at his side. Finn’s arms are crossed around his chest and suddenly the tablecloth looks super interesting.

“How’s Hux?” Finn asks. “Still a racist piece of shit.”

“He’s just a piece of shit now,” Ben says, taking the comment in stride. He puts his hand on the table again but she doesn’t have the strength to take it in hers. “Age has definitely improved him. He’s an equal opportunity asshole.”

“That’s wonderful,” Finn smiles but it is pained in a way that seems almost alien. “I’m sure you’re very proud.”

It feels like everyone is staring at the table and she starts counting just how long the silence lasts. It’s much easier than meeting Finn’s eye. 

“We should be going,” Poe adds, filling the void. “We’ll see you guys later.”

Poe smiles the smile of someone who is used to acting normally around human beings, even those he might not be particularly fond of, and he wraps an arm around Finn’s back before guiding him back toward their table.

The silence multiplies and the candle snuffs out.

“Your friends seemed… nice,” Ben says unsurely. “Are you ok to leave?”

“I am totally fine,” Rey says, nodding her head so vigorously it might fall off. “Never been better.”

She downs the rest of her drink, barely registering the taste, before reaching for his beer. She’s not quite fond of the taste but it’s alcohol and hopefully the kind that will get her blacked out quickly enough to forget the last few minutes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ben asks again.

“I told you,” she says. “I am 100% completely fine.” 

“If you say so,” he says. The ease of their earlier conversation is all but gone and they start the trek back to the real world.

When she turns to wave at Finn, he’s very pointedly looking at his menu.

\--

They’re about halfway to Ben’s place, somewhere just past frat row, when his hold on her hand starts to falter.

“Is there any reason your friend hates me so much?”

This was a question that was bound to come and yet she still can’t manage an answer. Her grip loosens and she tries to formulate an explanation just as they start to slow.

“He picked me up from that party we went to freshman year,” she says. “The one at Hux’s frat.”

It was his frat too but there’s no need to say that out loud.

“Shit,” Ben says and she can’t help but agree with the sentiment.

“So yeah,” Rey says. “He sorts of hates you.”

“I got that much,” Ben says. He’s not quite snapping at her but she sees the boy who used to be Kylo for the first time in weeks. He’s younger when he’s angry and she stops on the middle of the sidewalk just as he starts to charge ahead.

It takes a few steps for him to realize that she’s no longer holding her hand. It takes a few seconds after that for him to find her once again. Ben rubs his head in exasperation and she can’t remember a time where her lip has been thinner.

He sighs because what else is there to do before he pulls a pack of American Spirits from his pocket, tilting them towards her.

“You want one?”

“I don’t smoke,” she tells him. “Not a huge fan.”

She thinks of yellowed fingernails and empty fridges, of hiding whatever money she was able to save under her mattress so the older kids didn’t waste it on shitty Camels and shittier vodka. But that is a story for another time and not one that needs to be told right now.

Ben lights the cigarette and puts it in his mouth with a practiced ease that suggests a familiar habit. He takes a long drag, large enough to burn through half his cigarette, before letting it fall to the pavement. He stamps it out and leans against the side of what used to be an ill-managed pizza place before looking over at her. There’s a quiet dignity to it but her arms suddenly feel so cold. 

“Your friend mad about something that happened three years ago,” Ben says. “You’re not even mad about it but he gets to be.”

“I don’t really want to fight about this,” Rey tells him quietly. “We had a really nice night. I don’t want to ruin it.” 

“I’m not ruining it,” he says far too loudly for politeness but her glare is enough for him to be shut up.

His hand traces over the pack of cigarettes but he resists the urge to light another one up. Her legs are cold enough to where she might not even mind the heat but she appreciates the gesture.

“I’m trying, Rey,” he says. “I am trying really fucking hard not to fuck this up.”

“I never said you fucked anything up,” Rey tells him. “At no point tonight did I ever say that you were fucking anything up.” 

“You didn’t have to,’ Ben says. “You clearly didn’t want to be seen with me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Rey says. Her voice is more of a yell than anything else and he looks taken aback. “I just didn’t feel like having a fight with my best friend because I’m fucking the guy he spent months helping me get over.”

She leans beside him and they watch quietly as some freshman girl shouts at her equally drunken friend across the street. The friend gets in a few choice slurs before puking into a trashcan. Rey winces but at least the other girl starts to hold her hair.

“I liked you so fucking much and you set me in a corner so you could hang out with your asshole friends,” Rey says. “You didn’t try and talk to me afterward. It was like I didn’t fucking exist.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Ben says quietly and his shoulder just grazes her arm. “I didn’t think you wanted to talk me.”

“I wanted something,” Rey tells him. “Anything would have been better than nothing.”

The friends across the street start hugging and Rey says a silent prayer for the poor Uber driver pulling up to give them a ride. She can feel Ben’s fingers just barely touching hers and she turns her head to face him.

“I’m not mad at you,” she says, very slowly and very carefully. “If I was still mad at you, I wouldn’t be here.”

He nods his head but he doesn’t seem any more relieved. 

“We are going to go to your apartment now,” she tells him. “Not because I don’t want you to be a part of my life but because you have a full sized bed and only one roommate and its too cold outside for me to think straight.”

“Come on,” she adds, holding out her hand. “Let’s go.” 

He takes it and things start to feel okay again.

\-- 

They settle in the living room and pretend to watch the _Friends_ marathon playing on the television. Ben, without prompting, says he’s a Chandler. Given the amount of self-loathing that’s played out since dinner, she can’t really find fault in his assessment. She says she’s a Gunther and Ben laughs for the first time in hours.

His hand is wrapped around her like it was always meant to go there but she’s too keyed up to rest her head against his shoulder the way she wants.

She doesn’t why she’s so nervous when he’s already made it clear that he wants to have sex with her but she can’t escape the bundle of something hiding in her stomach. It’s been lingering ever since they ran into Finn but the urge to text him and explain herself is quietly extinguished as she melts into Ben’s couch.

His couch should feel familiar but it isn’t. She should have memorized every stupid Animal House poster that’s been hung up in the living room, counted the pairs of Sperries Hux must have left in a neat row by the door, but she hasn’t. Everything seems to blur when they’re together and she wonders just how many details she’s missed wearing her Ben-colored glasses.

But the margaritas are hitting her harder than she expected and Ben’s neck smells way too good for her to exert any self-control. Tomorrow’s Rey can be rational and decide on how to explain whatever this is to Finn. Tonight’s Rey wants the night to end exactly as she planned. 

The TV blares in the background and his hand inches closer to the exposed skin of her thigh. The few hairs she missed in the shower are standing upright but she adjusts her leg just enough so he can get a better grip. Every move is delicate, filled with tension in a way that is driving her crazy, but she doesn’t want to give in and kiss him.

Not just yet.

She stretches, making a big deal about yawning, before pulling her legs on the cushions and looking over at him. His hand moves higher and she can barely stand it.

“You’re really fucking hot,” he tells her and she looks away, embarrassed but loving every word. Her legs are nearly in his lap and her dress slowly rides up her hips. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she says but he’s staring at her too intensely to be anything but sincere.

“I mean it, Rey,” he says as he runs his hands up and down her skin. “I can’t believe I get to touch you.”

“You should be touching me more then.” She grabs his right hand, directing it to her underwear and he grins at her. “I want to come before I fuck you.”

His hand dips beneath the cotton of her panties and he smiles happily as he finds her clit. He presses just a little too hard but the friction feels incredible given how wet he’s making her.

“You shaved,” he says happily. His voice is almost a question and his fingers feel almost rough on skin that hasn’t been hairless in months. His hand goes lower, travelling delicately in an almost timid exploration, slipping between her folds before he resumes his ministrations.

“I was trying to be sexy,” she tells him and he kisses her before she can say anything else. She can taste the cigarette on his breath but she’s just tipsy enough and just horny enough not to mind at all.

“You’re always sexy but I appreciate the gesture,” he says, meeting her lips once more.

Ben slides her panties off and soon enough she’s pressed back against the couch. His mouth is hot against hers and at some point she pulls off his shirt and wraps her arms around him.

It feels like high school or rather what she had expected high school to be like after watching _Grease_ when she was too young to truly appreciate how inappropriate it was. She lifts up her hips and he thrusts his bulge against her in a way that almost makes her see stars. She groans loud enough that the neighbors must hear it and he bites her lip. Their kisses grow wetter and she moans into his mouth just as his grip tightens.

He yanks his jeans and underwear down barely getting them off his legs before he starts grinding against her again. He rubs his cock against her clit and she can feel the tip leaking. It might be scientifically impossible, but it is harder than she’s ever felt it and she tries to angle her hips so he hits the perfect angle.

But he slides up or she slides down and suddenly he’s fully inside her.

There’s a pause. He moans and she almost comes from the feel of his cock throbbing inside her, the heat of his skin pressed against her skin. She moans and grabs him tighter but even in the heat of the moment, there’s a pause as she meets his eye. 

There’s hesitation in his face, something unsure and yet incredibly hopeful, and her breathing nearly stops. 

“Is this ok?” Ben asks and she kisses him sloppily before she can lose her nerve.

Every free condom she’s taken from the student health center hangs its head in shame but she spreads her legs and urges him deeper. She’d be embarrassed but he feels so good and she’s so fucking soaked and there is definitely going to be a wet spot on the couch by the time they’re done. 

She’s too desperate to be any good but Ben seems to be more than making up for it from the way he drives into her. She bites his neck and he goes even deeper as she starts to tense around him. It’s fast and rushed and dirty and she’s never wanted him more. 

“I want to come in you,” he whispers as he starts to speed up. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing she’s ever heard but it immediately takes her out of the moment. Her nails dig in ever harder into the skin of his back and his head jerks almost unnaturally.

“Don’t,” she says through gritted teeth. “ _Ben.”_

He groans like he’s about to disobey but she feels him pull out just before she feels his cum splattering onto her stomach. He collapses on top of her with his forehead pressed against hers as he comes back down to Earth and she runs a hand up and down his back.

There’s something incredibly pleasant about holding him, even with the leather of the couch clinging to her skin, but her mind is whirling too fast to be fully invested in the afterglow. 

“That could have been bad,” Ben says after a few minutes in what might be the biggest understatement of the year.

“Yeah,” she says, absentmindedly stroking his hair. “It could have been.”

He hums in agreement and then he pops up before reaching for the jeans and underwear he had nearly ripped off. He leaves his shirt off, a move she can’t help but approve of, and scavenges for something to clean up the mess. She wants nothing more than to pull her dress down but the thought of walking home with the fabric sticking to her skin is enough of an incentive to hold still.

Ben grabs some tissue from the bottom of the coffee table and tenderly wipes the cum from her stomach. It’s considerate but she’s too busy silently wigging out to appreciate the thoroughness of the ritual.

He crumples the tissue into a ball as she sits up and he wraps his arm around her as best he can. The couch suddenly feels much too small and her heart nearly beats right through her chest as she mentally tracks her menstrual cycle.

“Are you ok?” Ben asks and she nods her head slowly even though she’s clearly not. 

“We just had sex,” Rey says. “Without a condom.”

“I know,” Ben tells her, far too calm for her tastes. “I was there. It was great."

“I don’t do things like _that_ ,” she tells him. “I have a condom in my jacket pocket. I know for a fact that you still have more in your nightstand.” 

“When did you look through my stuff…” Ben starts to say but she quickly interrupts before he realizes that she’s a weirdo.

“I’m just trying to say I’ve never done this before,” Rey says. “Like ever.” 

“If it helps, I haven’t been with anyone other than you since I last got tested,” Ben tells her. He kisses the top of her head and her paranoia eases by just a little bit. He doesn’t say just how long that was and she pretends that it was years.

“Neither have I,” Rey says. She doesn’t tell him just how long ago that was nor does she particularly feel like revealing her involuntary chastity. ”So we’re good there.”

“So it won’t happen again,” Ben says quietly, squeezing her shoulder. “It was a stupid mistake. We’ll be smarter next time.” 

The silence that looms afterward is daunting and she can’t keep from staring at the rumpled ball on the coffee table. She’s never been a particularly lucky person. Every “nice” thing she has is something she either fixed herself or earned and even the dress hiked up to her chest is on the wrong side of trendy. She would be the one to knocked up from her vagina’s misguided decision, the cautionary tale talked about in hushed voices and doubting eyes, and her uterus recoils in fear. Ben is hot and he clearly likes her but they’ve been whatever they’ve been for less than a month. It’s not a good time. It might never be.

At some point, she registers the fact that the _Friends_ marathon has been replaced by an episode of _The Big Bang Theory_. Even the TV is mocking her and so she speaks without thinking. 

“I am going to go to the student health center and get on the pill or something equally fun,” Rey says after minutes pass by. “If I am going to get drunk and insist we don’t need condoms, I need to not be an idiot about it.”

Her voice is barely wavering and Ben doesn’t do anything more than nod. This decision is just another tendril linking them together and it feels like something permanent, something real and adult and scary.

“If you sleep with anyone else, I’ll kill you. “ She says this while running a hand up and down his stomach in hopes that it will somehow make her threat sound less creepy.

He smiles, exposing his perfect imperfect teeth, and she pokes his belly button menacingly.

“I mean it,” she says with a steely glare. “I will literally rip your dick off and beat you to death with it.”

“I never said I didn’t believe you,” Ben tells her before kissing the top of her head.

Her stomach rumbles and he laughs while she buries her face against his shoulder. He smells even better now that he’s all sweaty and she’s just gross enough to bask in it. But her stomach rumbles again and she can feel the roll of his laugh. 

“Do you want something?” Ben asks. “I’ve got some chicken nuggets.”

“I will always want chicken nuggets,” she says and he heads to the kitchen after stealing another kiss.

“Put on some music or something,” he calls out. “My Ipod should be in the basket.”

“You still have an Ipod?” Rey asks, grabbing it from the remote basket and scrolling through the truly cumbersome playlist. She doesn’t recognize half the songs on there but somehow she’s not surprised. The only reason she knows any good music is because of Poe’s insistence on DJing any time the situation merits it. If it were up to her, she’d be listening to the same stuff she has since she was 13 and she doubts even Ben would be that into Rogers and Hammerstein.

“It still works,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. They look especially broad in the unflattering light of his kitchen and she lets herself a few seconds of ogling before returning to her search. “At least I don’t have a record player.”

Every band seems to have an animal name and the list gets even harder to follow.

“It’s like you downloaded an Urban Outfitters,” she says. 

“I can’t help it if I have progressive music taste,” he calls out as he fumbles with the microwave.

She smirks as she puts on her song choice, turning the volume as high as it can go so he can hear it in the kitchen. He groans as Gerard Way’s voice fills the room and she can’t keep from laughing; especially when he begins to sort of tunelessly sing about being a young boy in the city. 

She hears a ding and so she shuts off the Ipod just as he comes back in the living room armed with a plate and ketchup. The chicken nuggets are shaped like dinosaurs. For some reason, it makes them taste that much better and she forgets whatever modesty she has as she wolfs them down.

Ben says she acts like she hasn’t eaten in days. When she flips him off, he laughs and kisses her middle finger. Ketchup and all.

\--

At some point, they migrate to his bedroom. She borrows another one of his t-shirts and he puts on a pair of gray sweats just light enough to where she make out the outline of his dick. She decides right then and there that those are her favorite pair of pants.

Ben puts on _It’s Always Sunny_ and the dulcet tones of Charlie Day fill the air just as they get on the bed. She settles onto her side, the one with the better pillow, and realizes that she just called part of his bed hers. 

“So we’re only sleeping with each other,” she says. It’s more of a confirmation than a question so Ben doesn’t look too fazed.

“Yep,” he says almost immediately.

“And you want to keep hanging out?” Rey asks.

“As long as you still want to,” he tells her and she cuddles closer. There are a few errant hairs on his chest and she fiddles with them as her mouth outpaces her brain. 

“Does that mean you're my boyfriend then?”

Ben pauses the show and smiles at her.

“I guess so,” he says matter-of-factly. “I guess so.”

He kisses her or she kisses him and then they settle back and watch his laptop screen until they’re too tired to stay awake.

\--

When they wake up, he’ll make her coffee that’s too strong to be legal and she’ll use his toothbrush to freshen up after they take an overlong shower.

He’ll send her out the door with a goodbye kiss that turns into a goodbye make-out session that turns into her being ten minutes late for work.

But the perks of being someone’s girlfriend make it more than worth it.


	5. Double Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you guys are going to fuck, don’t do it at the table,” Hux says. “I eat here. I want to continue eating here for the foreseeable future. Please do not ruin food for me."
> 
> His voice is a little louder than strictly necessary and if he were anyone else, Rey would say he’s blushing.
> 
> “I’m sorry,” Rey says, genuinely meaning it. Ben doesn’t issue his own apology but he’s still wearing that stupid smug look so she hadn’t really expected one.
> 
> “I don’t care if you’re sorry,” Hux says rigidly. “I care that there aren’t any fluids on the table I got for the apartment because someone was too lazy to pick anything out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted a twist? It's time for an update.  
> I've been working on this one for a while (a long while) and I am so happy to finally share it with you <3 It's nice to write fluff, especially now that I'll have time to write it (my goal for the summer is to finish this fic as well as my other WIPs). 
> 
> Thank you all for your patience. Thank you all for reading. As always, leave whatever feedback you'd like.
> 
> Bug me on tumblr-mygrandmathinksimsassy

The next Monday’s visit to the student health center is somehow better and worse than Rey expected. Her nurse wears Batman scrubs but the doctor asks if she’s pregnant so many times that she loses count. Either way, she pees in a cup and leaves with a filled prescription for the finest birth control pills her student insurance will cover. She keeps them in her backpack and adds an alarm to her phone and it all feels like a very big deal.

And it’s a good thing too because the disastrous trend of thinking with her vagina instead of her brain shows no signs of slowing down. In her defense, she has every intention of using condoms until the pill becomes effective which doesn’t actually count for anything, but it totally should. So instead she decides to fill the next few days with extra shifts at work, figuring that if she’s too tired to jump Ben’s bones then she is definitely too tired to make more stupid choices.

\--

Class is uneventful and work even less so but everything outside it is somehow brighter now that Ben has become a constant. She has too much homework to devote as much time to making out as she’d like but there’s something incredibly satisfying about tagging along between classes when he picks up some old biographies in the campus library, something mature that comes with holding hands in coffee shops and staring at Ben’s reading glasses from behind her laptop screen. There’s something even better about getting to second base behind the main stacks but the poor grad student who runs into them and subsequently kicks them out for disrespecting Ovid doesn’t seem to agree.

She’s texted Finn every morning in hopes the promise of cupcakes or coffee or anything will make him want to talk about things but to little success. He doesn’t respond right away and when he does, it’s only to say that he’s too busy to catch up.  Three days go by and it is officially the longest they’ve ever gone without seeing each other.  Two more days pass and it becomes the longest they’ve gone without even talking on the phone.

Rey pretends it doesn’t matter but it does. Finn always matters and no amount of making out is ever going to change that.

\--

She heads to Ben’s apartment that Saturday when she gets off work, armed with a backpack full of toiletries and high expectations. She regrets not changing- the polo shirt of her uniform does little in the way of enhancing any of her virtues, but Ben smiles when he meets her out front and suddenly it doesn’t matter.

She’s not much of a cook unless you count ramen, but she makes them both grilled cheese sandwiches while Ben tries and succeeds in kissing her neck and feeling her up. Both sandwiches end up charred and Ben pretends he likes his grilled cheese well-done which only seems fair considering he’s the reason they ended up ruined in the first place.

They end up mostly eating the mint chocolate chip ice cream Ben had stashed in the freezer and drinking the PBR hidden in the vegetable crisper. They sit huddled together at his kitchen table, basking in the solitude they haven’t been able to have for days.

When they kiss, Ben’s lips taste sweet. They’re even sweeter when he’s pulled her into his lap and his hands are sliding up her shirt. It’s only been a few days since they last had sex but the way he sucks on her neck and worships her breasts makes her needy in a way she had never been before falling into his bed.

The angle is awkward but she manages to reach a hand into his joggers and get a decent grip on his dick. He’s hard and she treasures every moan that escapes his throat as she jerks him off. She’s never regretted wearing jeans more and another wave of desire shoots through her as she remembers just how easily he slid into her when they fooled around on the couch.

Ben is reaching for her zipper when she hears the key turning in his front door. There’s just enough time to get her hand out of his pants but she’s still yanking her polo shirt down when Hux enters the room. He meets her eye or she meets his but either way she misses the days where he only caught her borrowing his towel.

Ben turns his head, smiling like an idiot as he shrugs his shoulders. She’s still pressed in his lap and in theory, she should get up but Ben’s erection hasn’t fully gone away and she wants to retain what little decency she has left.

“How’s it going?” Ben asks his roommate but Hux doesn’t seem to have time for pleasantries.

“If you guys are going to fuck, don’t do it at the table,” Hux says. “I eat here. I want to continue eating here for the foreseeable future. Please do not ruin food for me."

His voice is a little louder than strictly necessary and if he were anyone else, Rey would say he’s blushing.

“I’m sorry,” Rey says, genuinely meaning it. Ben doesn’t issue his own apology but he’s still wearing that stupid smug look so she hadn’t really expected one.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry,” Hux says rigidly. “I care that there aren’t any fluids on the table _I_ got for the apartment because _someone_ was too lazy to pick anything out.”

Rey finally crawls off Ben’s lap and she remembers just how tall he is when he gets out of his chair. He looks ruffled but not thoroughly debauched and she supposes things could be much worse.

“Nothing to worry about, man,” Ben says. “We’ll keep it in the bedroom from now on.”

“Thank you,” Hux says through gritted teeth and Ben smiles before speaking again.

“Just the room,” Ben says. “And the couch.”

Hux lets out a disgusted sort of noise like he’s about to wretch, his face beet red, and Ben laughs as she grabs his hand and yanks him into the bedroom before he can say anything else to incriminate them both.

She has half a mind to give him the “Don’t tell your roommate that we have fucked all over the apartment” lecture but it is hard to get mad at someone so intent on making out with you as much as possible.

He presses her against the bed and they kiss with a smile on his lips before he finally gets her out of her jeans. Ben takes his shirt off, more for her benefit than his, and she runs her hands all over his skin as they desecrate his comforter.

She tries to be as quiet as possible when he eats her out, muffling her moans with her hand as the other grips his hair. She tries but she doesn’t succeed and if the way Hux very deliberately coughs and classical music starts to blare from outside Ben’s bedroom is any indication, she is being much louder than she ever thought possible.

Rey would mind but Ben’s mouth and Ben’s fingers feel so fucking good that she can’t pretend to be modest any longer. She forgets why she was ever quiet in the first place and just lets herself enjoy the sensation and the feel of his two-day old scruff rubbing against her thighs.

When she finally comes down, she pulls Ben’s sweats down and crawls between his legs. It’s fun blowing him, he doesn’t lie there silently or yank too hard on her hair; he makes just the right amount of noise and cradles her head tenderly as she tries her hardest to make him cum.

It’s been a long time and she’s out of practice but she ends up getting the job done. She’s left with a slightly sore throat and an incredibly smug sense of satisfaction as Ben reverts to the sleepy, passive version of himself who always emerges after they fool around.

\--

The afterglow is almost routine now. He lies on his back and she curls herself around him. He breathes her in and she uses his newfound compliance to decide what show they’ll attempt to watch before he has the energy to bicker about it.

She puts on “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives,” something she is neutral toward and Ben pretends to hate because he likes being difficult and finding fault with things that bring normal people joy. Either way, he’s more than happy to watch Guy Fieri extol the virtues of fusion cuisine and it’s nice to have something in the background when speech eludes them both.

When she finally forces herself to the bathroom, there’s a bright orange toothbrush still in the original packaging next to the two that were there last time she came over.  The gesture is small but unless Hux has suddenly developed a social life that they are both completely unaware of, clearly intentional. Her heart skips a beat, but she pretends it only comes from her phone’s text notification.

\--

BB-8 misses you!!!!

Poe includes roughly one hundred emojis but he’s never been one to temper his enthusiasm.

What follows is a picture of BB-8 looking mournfully out the window, presumably at the squirrel that sometimes hangs out in a tree just out of reach but Rey is more than happy to pretend such feline melancholy is solely for her.

_I miss her too. I promise I’ll visit soon._

We’re free tomorrow night. Bring your gentleman caller  : )

The amount of emojis is still staggeringly high and Rey can only assume he’s serious since he only used two eggplants.

Ben comes in when she’s almost done. He’s down to just his t-shirt and boxer briefs, somehow even less concerned about not traumatizing his roommate than he usually is. Maybe he’s being deliberate. She wouldn’t be surprised if he were.

“We got invited to dinner tomorrow night,” she tells him with a mouth full of toothpaste.

He stretches and she is rewarded with a view of his happy trail before he starts brushing his teeth.

“Dinner with who?”

He already knows that she only has two friends, so her answer can’t come as much of a surprise.

“Finn and Poe,” she says and he lets out a melodramatic sigh before spitting his excess toothpaste into the sink.

“Do we have to?”

He doesn’t immediately refuse. It feels like a triumph.

“Yes,” she says. "They’re my best friends. I would like all of you to interact in the same room without trying to kill each other.”

“I don’t want to kill your friends.”

“You know what I meant.”

They haven’t talked that much about Finn, especially since the Mexican food incident, but to be fair, they haven’t talked that much at all.

“We’re spending the entire weekend together,” Rey tells him. “I’m sure you’ll be grateful to talk to someone other than me before Monday.”

“Not really,” he says. “I don’t care about those other people.”

Ben kisses her neck. She turns her head and when she finds his lips, he makes a pleased sort of noise as they start to make out.

There’s an angry knock and she covers her mouth to keep from laughing at Hux’s audible exasperation.  His sigh is already familiar and she’d pity him if she weren’t so smug.

“I can hear two people in there,” Hux shouts. “Stop trying to ruin everything in the apartment, Solo. I live here too."

\--

It’s nice to wake up next to Ben without the threat of work looming overhead. She gets enough time to study him, to note the noises he makes when he attempts to steal the entire bed and the contented way he tries to spoon her in his sleep. He’s a cute sleeper but she can only let sleeping boyfriends lie for so long. There’s only so much free time that she gets and she wants most of it to be spent while conscious.

They kiss with their breaths still smelling of sleep and slowly but surely Ben returns to the world.

They get breakfast burritos from a place on Ben’s street, monstrosities that are more enjoyable for their sheer enormity than the quality of the eggs and cheese inside, but she’s never been one to complain about putting herself into a food coma. Ben is mostly non-verbal until he finishes his coffee but his hand finds hers over the vinyl diner table and it feels absolutely correct.

She has too much work for the weekend to be entirely filled with eating and fooling around but if Ben is annoyed at her latest problem set, he does a good job of hiding it.

Rey lies sprawled across his bed, her feet crossed behind her as she works through the most tedious assignment she can imagine. The problems aren’t particularly demanding but she can’t keep from looking at where Ben is posted as his desk and pretending to work on a paper he has coming up. His laptop screen is blank, filled only with brackets that say [Insert Title About Soviet History Here] but he seems less than bothered by it.

He notices her staring but it hardly shames him into working harder. Or working at all.

“Isn’t it due this week?”

It’s not quite an interrogation but only just. Ben raises his eyebrows but he’s more amused than annoyed.

“It’s only supposed to be ten pages,” he says. “I can get it done the night before.”

She snorts at the thought of being so cavalier about writing ten pages of anything but there is a reason that she has avoided all humanities classes since freshman year. Her final paper on _Hamlet_ was hardly worthy of the B it got and she suspects it was only the TA’s sense of compassion that ensured she didn’t entirely tarnish her GPA.

“I can take a break whenever you’re ready. Maybe it’ll make me more productive,” he says and she laughs.

“There isn’t much to take a break from,” she teases and he smiles before abandoning his laptop all together and joining her on the bed.

For some reason, her textbook falls to the floor and her notebook remains untouched at the foot of Ben’s bed. For some even weirder reason, she soon ends up without her yoga pants and Ben ends up without his shirt.

She somehow doubts that getting off is conducive to paper writing but she can’t deny that it’s a lot more fun than being a productive adult.

\--

They get ready for dinner and it is a virtual death march. Her stomach flutters in the most unholy of anticipations and the urge to just stay in bed grows stronger with every second.

She dresses nice, not too nicely because it’ll seem weird, but nice enough to put on eyeliner and attempt a cohesive outfit with what she brought in her backpack. Ben gets the hint without a reminder and while she doesn’t love his jeans the same way she loves his sweatpants, she’s grateful for the way they complement his black shirt and more importantly, his ass.

He holds her hand on the walk over and she can’t deny just how couple-y this feels as they knock on Poe and Finn’s door. 

Poe wears a huge smile and Finn tries to, but an awkward silence still hangs over the doorway.

“We brought you guys wine,” Rey says, speaking in an overly cheery voice like a kindergarten teacher or a used cars salesman. She doesn’t mention that it’s a bottle they took from the back of Ben’s fridge, something Hux’s dad left for his pretentious son for once the semester started, but it very obviously costs more than six dollars so Poe at least has the decency to recognize that she is trying and that she is trying very hard.

Poe hugs her and rewards Ben with the stilted bro nod guys always do when they lack the capacity for actual enthusiasm but recognize the need for acknowledgement. Finn ignores Ben entirely and she supposes it must be for the best.

\--

Poe made paella because nothing says casual dinner like saffron and shellfish. But Poe is an excellent chef when he puts his mind to it and it is never a hardship to eat anything that he makes. Ben accepts second and third helpings and she can see Poe’s resolve fade, if only by a little bit.

Conversation flows freely enough, not as much as it would if Ben were literally anyone else, but everyone seems to try and that absolutely counts for something. Ben limits most of his input to the quality of the food and Finn mostly talks about stuff that happened before Ben was in the picture

They move to the living room afterward like they’re adults and she almost expects Poe to call the wine he pours in her Ikea glass a nightcap.

Hux’s dad has excellent taste in wine and she drinks eagerly and easily accepts a refill as the awkwardness lingers.

BB-8 struts from the bedroom, her too-large belly swinging with a swagger as she makes her grand debut. Rey holds a hand out but it is mercilessly ignored as she graces Poe with a fleeting swish.

“This is BB-8,” Poe says. “She’s my child.”

He uses the same proud dad voice he always uses when the cat does anything remotely noteworthy. Like sleep. Or breath.

“Did you kill the first seven?” Ben asks.

Finn snorts, the first indication that he is acknowledging Ben as anything more than a tall nuisance

“She had that name at the rescue,” Poe insists. “I’m not going to take it from her.”

“I’m still convinced she doesn’t know it,” Finn retorts and Poe shoots him a spurned look. “She would have made a great Cheetara and you know it.”

BB-8 is unconcerned with her legacy and quickly finds her way toward the one person in the room who isn’t desperate for her approval. She circles Ben’s calves, eyeing them before rubbing her cheek against his leg.

She lets out a squeaky little meow and Poe coos like a proud mother. Finn, who had spent weeks covered in tiny scrapes when he and Poe first started dating, is astounded.

“Cats like me,” Ben says as he bends down. He scritches BB-8 under the chin and Rey becomes just a little bit more hopeless. The cat chirps again and Poe lets out this noise like she just started reciting a soliloquy.

“Traitor,” Finn says. BB-8 doesn’t acknowledge the insult, clearly more content to expose even more of her belly to Ben as she rolls around the living room floor.

BB-8 jumps onto Ben’s lap, her purr audible as she kneads the air in front of her. Her claws, the bane of Rey’s existence, are sheathed and she’s never seemed so pleased with herself.  Rey isn’t quite sure whether to be jealous or pleased.

“So, Ben,” Finn says frostily, watching as BB-8 reaches the peak of feline ecstasy. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Your plans,” he says.  “Like after graduation,”

“Law school probably,” Ben says with a shrug of his shoulders. “It seems inevitable at this point. Everyone in the family ends up there.

“Of course you want to be a lawyer,” Finn mutters. Ben isn’t rattled by the sudden ice flow or if he is, he hides it well. 

Poe, on the other hand, has a slightly better approach. 

"Any family?" He asks. "Rey didn't tell us anything about them."

In her defense, she hasn't told them much of anything. 

"Just my parents,” Ben says in a clipped voice. “My mom was a lawyer before she got elected. My dad does even less than that."

“Elected?” Finn asks. “Elected to what? City Council?"

“She’s a Senator,” Ben says in a way that suggests he has hoped to talk about literally anything else.  “I’m sure you’ve seen all the Facebook posts talking about the Resistance since Snoke got elected. My mom is sort of everywhere which is only slightly creepy.”

Finn’s obvious disapproval turns into something more terrifying when he looks at Poe.

Curiosity.

“Your mom is Leia Organa?”  It’s the happiest Finn has looked since they’ve got there, possibly the happiest he will ever be in Ben’s presence.

 “Your mom is my hero, dude,” Poe adds. “I have her book. She liked one of my tweets and I nearly passed out.”

“I get that a lot,” Ben says. She can hear the embarrassment in his voice and even though she’s suddenly bursting with questions, she’ll wait until they’re no longer under Finn’s scrutiny to find out why he’s glossed over something like this.

“You’re basically a Kennedy,” Finn says and Ben snorts.

“Not quite,” he says. “Nobody’s been forced to have a lobotomy so far as I can tell.”

Finn sort of laughs, snorting more than anything concrete, and the tension in her shoulders fades just a bit.

\--

They linger afterward, sitting quietly in the living room like adults at dinner parties are supposed to do.

“You never told me your mom was a Senator,” Rey says quietly when Finn and Poe are both in the kitchen.

“It never came up. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” Ben says matter-of-factly in a way that suggests he knows exactly how big of a deal it is. “You never told me what your parents did.”

He’s technically correct but for all the wrong reasons.

“They’re dead,” she says bluntly and Ben blanches. “Or they just wanted nothing to do with me so I’m not really sure what to tell you about them other than they existed.”

They never got far enough last time for him to care about her family and she never got close enough to tell him.

“I’m sorry,” he says after clearing his throat and she’s troubled by how appreciative she is of his apology.

“It’s not your fault,” she says. “You didn’t know.”

She leans over and kisses Ben softly. BB-8 lets out an aggrieved little chirp, salty and demanding now that someone dares to touch her newest best friend, but it is quickly forgotten when Ben absent-mindedly starts scratching her between the ears once more. There’s another chirp, this one decidedly more pleasant, and something in Rey’s uterus melts.

\--

Poe comes back in with a tray of brownies in his hands.

“Do you smoke, Ben?”

His eyebrows are raised when he looks at Ben, but Ben hardly seems phased.

“Smoke what?”  

And Poe smiles.

“I made edibles,” he says. “I made normal brownies too, Rey. I’m not going to corrupt you.”

She and Finn got high for the first and last time together during their freshman year. Rey remembers ordering and then neglecting an order of Fried Oreos, wasting a decent chunk of her weekly food budget on a meal that is only good while inebriated or at a county fair.

Poe smokes sometimes-enough to have a stupid orange pipe and a vape pen that lives in his pocket- which means Finn is likely to partake if only to make unending rants about how cool space is slightly more tolerable given his lack of practical expertise. Poe becomes even more idealistic when he is inebriated which is a little annoying but mostly endearing just like everything else about him.

“It’s alright. I’ll have one,” she says. “It’ll be fun.”

And it is fun.

At first.

The brownie tastes pretty good, a little too weedy to be truly fantastic, but she probably wouldn’t even notice the aftertaste if she didn’t know exactly what she was eating. It would just be a brownie that fell on the quad, earthy and chocolaty and good enough to eat more.

She eats roughly the same amount as Ben does. In retrospect, it is a huge mistake.

\--

Ben curates the music, putting on a band that Poe seems to recognize and both she and Finn pretend to know. It’s the right kind of music for a night like this, perfect for brooding and she waits for something, anything to catch her up to everyone else’s speed.

“I don’t feel it,” she says after ten minutes. “Maybe it doesn’t work on me.”

“You’ll feel it,” Poe tells her from where he’s stationed in the kitchen. “If I feel it, there is no way that you will not feel it soon.

His eyes are slightly glassy and he is starting on a batch of cupcakes so there’s no mistaking where he’s at in terms of inebriation. He crumbles up some Oreos and throws them into the batter, humming sort of tunelessly as he helps himself to some of the batter.

Finn is chatty, even more so than normal, his mouth running a mile a minute as he harasses Ben with questions about his mother.

Much to Ben’s credit, he is nearly patient, limiting his answers to one or two words, but providing answers nonetheless.

It’s like they’re almost friends and a surge of warmth runs through her with everyone she cares about in the same room.

\--

About thirty minutes later, everything goes to shit.

There are colors where there only used to be light, flashes of yellow and pink clouding her vision from where she sits propped against the couch. Time moves so slowly as though it wasn’t even passing. Time moves so fast that she lives several lifetimes in the span of a couple of minutes.

She checks her phone camera and her eyes are bright red.

“I’m so high right now,” she says, more to the ether than anyone trapped in the room with her.

The cupcakes Poe made are quite possibly the best things she has ever eaten, and she can’t remember whether she’s on her second or third when she starts on the next one.

“I mean it,” she says again. “I’m very high, Ben.”

“I know you are,” Ben says. “You’ve told me like three times in the past ten minutes.”

“But I mean it, Ben,” she says grouchily, and he laughs.

“I believe you,” he says, his voice soft as he sits on the floor next to her.

She curls up against his side, her face buried against his arm. A sudden urge to bite a chunk out of his flesh strikes her, not to harm him but just to taste, and she can no longer deny the fact that she probably ate way too much of the brownie.

She leans in like she’s about to steal a kiss and she wants to, wants to feel his swollen lips on hers, but she’s way past the point of doing anything other than ramble. His face seems larger somehow, like it is stretching past its breaking point, and everything is totally fine except for the fact that it isn’t.

“You know I could totally stab you right now,” she says. “Nobody would stop me.”

Finn laughs and so does Poe when she points his chest menacingly. Ben doesn’t pull away even if she recognizes that he definitely should.

 If somebody threatened her, she’d probably hit them. Ben’s solution is apparently to rub her back. His hand is so big and his hand is so warm and it feels so fucking good that she is compelled to share her appreciation.

“But I won’t,” she says. “Since you’re nice to me this time. I always want you to be nice to me, Ben. I just want you to like me.”

He murmurs his agreement like she hasn’t just embarrassed herself, still rubbing her back, and then he turns to Poe.

“Is she always like this when she’s high?” Ben asks. “I didn’t realize someone could trip this hard on one brownie.”

“I’m not sure,” Poe says. “I don’t think I’ve actually seen her high before.”

“Great,” Ben says. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“You guys can crash here tonight,” Poe offers. “We’ve got sleeping bags. We’ve got a couch.”

“I think we should probably head out,” Ben says. “This one is going to be trouble enough in the morning.”

He reaches for her hand and Rey shakes her head angrily. Tears are filling her eyes and though she recognizes how stupid that truly is, that doesn’t keep them from appearing.

“No,” she whines “I don’t want to get up.”

“I will carry you out of here,” he says and she lets out a whine so childish that Finn starts to laugh before Ben makes good on his promise.

Ben cradles her like an infant and if she were at all sober, she’d immediately be turned on. But she isn’t, so she just hides her head against his chest and closes her eyes because it makes everything a little less bright.

She vaguely remembers getting in the back of a Lyft but everything after that is a blur.

Everything except for the overwhelming desire to eat more of Poe’s Oreo cupcakes.

\--

She wakes the next morning in a bed that is way too small for her and Ben to share. Ben’s feet are hanging off the edge and she’d feel guilty if she already wasn’t lodged against the wall.  If she weren’t so tired, she’d be embarrassed about the pile of unfolded laundry in the basket and the bras hanging on the drying rack but there are much larger things to be embarrassed about and Ben is likely aware of all of them based on what she can remember from the night before.

They must have stopped by his apartment before ending up here. Her things have been tucked neatly by the closet door. Her shoes are off but she’s still in her clothes. At least he had the sense to take his jeans off. At least he had the sense not to get too high eating some brownies.

She’s thirsty, so thirsty that she might die from it, but the thought of getting up from the bed is somehow more agonizing than the thought of slowly wasting away in a desert of her own making.

She groans because it’s the only thing that makes sense and then she realizes Ben is awake.

“How are you doing?”

His voice is raspy but gentle. He leans in for a kiss and while it is technically pleasant, she is too out of equilibrium to appreciate the gesture.  

“Can you get me some water?”

Her voice is barely recognizable, raspy in a way that could never be deemed sexy.

He hands her the glass water bottle from her nightstand, orange and glass and covered in stickers she’s amassed over the past four years.

She drinks the entire thing in one sip, but her throat is still painfully dry.

“I’m never getting high ever again,” she mumbles and Ben laughs as she lies back down.

“That might be for the best,” Ben says. “You were pretty terrifying for a while there. I don’t think anybody has ever threatened to kill me before.”

“I find that surprising. I’ve met your roommate.”

“He hasn’t said it to my face.” Ben sets the bottle back on the nightstand before brushing a hand against her cheek. “I’m sure he is plotting my demise right now.”

From what little she knows of Hux, that seems about right.

“I don’t like getting high,” she grumbles. “I’m all cloudy.”

“You shouldn’t have had any of the brownies then. Nobody was forcing you.”

“I wanted you to think I was cool,” she mutters and Ben chuckles before kissing her forehead.

‘You are cool,” Ben lies but he seems to believe what he’s saying. “You are the coolest girl I know.”

She thinks he’s going to make out with her, but he chooses a different path.  He licks her cheek like some sort of overgrown puppy, clearly amused when she can’t decide whether to laugh or retaliate.

They fall back asleep at some point and she’s never been happier to be in this bed.

\--

They wake back up again with the sun blaring in the window. It’s been ages since she’s slept in this late, but she’s starting to understand the appeal even if she’d much prefer doing it in Ben’s bed. Where there is space. Where he can’t see just how rundown all her furniture is. Where she doesn’t need to be taken care of.

But she likes this, this laziness. The decadence that comes just from existing in one another’s space.  There is warmness to it, something sweet and comforting that makes her wonder how she ever felt content without him there.

“It’s Monday, right?”

It might still be Saturday for all she cares. They might still be in a dream.

“Yeah,” he says.  “I can head out whenever you want if you need to go to class.”

She doesn’t want him to leave and she suspects from the way he doesn’t budge that he is not eager to go.

“My class was cancelled,” she says. “We had the makeup on Friday.”

She wants to send Professor Threepio a fruit basket for scheduling a conference this week but that might be slight overkill. Either way, it might be the most she’s appreciated the man.

“Do you need to head out?”

“No,” he says. “I can stay.”

She smiles and he smiles and if she didn’t already know how doomed she was, this would have been the moment when she finally admitted it.

They’ve spent three days together and he still wants to stick around.

He’s not leaving. Not unless she wants him to.

And she can’t imagine ever wanting that

“You know if it’s Monday, that means the pill should be working by now,” she says. She’s being about as subtle as a hurricane but the look of excitement on Ben’s face is all the reassurance she needs.

“Is it now?

There is something wanting in his face, a wildness that sends a thrill down her spine.

“It is.” She leans in closer, hoping her breath doesn’t smell nearly as ripe as it should. “We should probably try it out.”

He closes the gap between them and then they get to trying. Things are a little cloudy still, not like the night before, but in a dreamy sort of way like she found him with her eyes still closed. She takes her time just kissing him, letting her body catch up to her mind as she savors the feel of his lips, the way he groans when her teeth graze against his bottom lip.

They kiss until her underwear is soaked and she can feel it clinging, until she has no choice but to pull him by his shirt until his body covers hers. Both their shirts are still on, but Ben makes quick work of her pants, peeling them and her underwear down her legs.

He works a finger in and out of her with his mouth hovering close to her ear. His voice has never been this low, this needy and she lifts her hips to take even more of him.

 “I’ve been thinking about this.”

Ben adds a second finger and she can’t keep from moaning when he does.

“Coming in you,” he says.  “Filling you up."

She’s dripping. Rey hears every movement of his fingers as he fucks her with his hand, the sound of her wetness soaking his skin. It’s good- being filled, being his- but it’s not enough.

“Are you just going to talk about it?” She sounds almost grown up, like a woman who knows exactly what she’s after, and Rey is bolder than she’s ever been. He curls his fingers in just the right way and she almost comes right there. “Or are you going to do it?”

She reaches into his underwear, wrapping her hand around his cock. There’s barely enough time to stroke him, to feel how he’s already leaking, before he yanks the boxer briefs down. 

Seconds later and then he’s inside her.

Just him inside her with nothing in between.

It feels even better than that night on the couch- all of the pleasure with none of the anxiety- and when Ben finally starts to move, she knows there is never any going back.

She knows he’s close already. She knows his body now, not as well as she intends on knowing it but well enough to recognize the urgent way he thrusts into her, the way he groans her name as she thrusts right back.

It’s rushed but that’s just what she wants. It’s sloppy but they’re both too far gone for that to matter.

She wraps her legs around him, pulling him even tighter, and then suddenly he stops. Every nerve in her body screams out in protest, but she forces herself to still even if it nearly kills her.

“Give me a second,” he pants.  There’s sweat beading on his forehead and she wants to lick it off.

She can tell he’s holding back, that this might be the hardest thing he’s ever done to keep from just driving her into the mattress and her fondness for him only grows.

He doesn’t want it to end.

Neither does she.

But this is just the first time of many. They have plenty of time for more.

“Take as long as you need,” she whispers. “I just want to make you come.”

She clenches down on his cock and then he fucks her like he never wants to do anything else. He drives into her, his hips slamming against her skin and his cock moving so deep inside her that he might never be able to leave.

Rey has never heard him moan so loudly. She has never felt herself get so wet.

When he comes, it is a revelation.

He’s done this in a condom and even if it had felt good then- so good to make him come, so good to see him unravel- it was nothing compared to way it feels right now to have him come inside her.

There is something primeval within her, something old and deep and sacred, that purrs with satisfaction as his cock throbs. It’s hard to explain it.

It feels right.

It feels perfect.

His breathing is shallow when he stills and she feels her heart pounding in her chest as he makes out with her after, all sweaty and spent. He is sweet as he always is. Tender. Good.

When he pulls away, she lingers as closely as she can until the mess they made can’t be ignored.

“Can you get me a wash cloth?” It’s filthier than she had expected- she didn’t realize Ben’s cum would slide out quite that fast -and she doesn’t move for fear that her sheets will end up sticking together. “I can’t really get up.”

He just nods, staring into space, before snapping to attention. He doesn’t bother tugging his underwear back on and he walks to her laundry basket still in a daze.

“There should be some towards the bottom,” she says and he fumbles through the unfolded pile that is mostly yoga pants and free t-shirts. He throws the wash cloth toward her and she tucks it between her thighs.

He collapses back on the bed like he might die if forced to move another muscle and part of her, the irrational part that thought she’d overdose on weed brownies, wonders if she killed Ben Solo through the magic of unprotected sex.

“Ben?”

He doesn’t respond, still apparently lost in space.

“Are you ok?”

“I’ve never come that hard before,” he tells her. He still looks shocked and pleasure- smug and warm- flows through her.  “I didn’t think I could come that hard."

He moves only to tuck her against his chest and she burrows against him like she never wants to be found.

The apartment is quiet- this must be the one day her roommates actually go to class- and she allows herself to be held until Ben finally comes back to Earth.

“Rey?”

She answers with a hum, basking in the way he rubs her back.

“I like you.”

He says this like some grand revelation and she can’t help but smile.

“I’d hope so,” she teases. “You just came in me.”

“I mean it, Rey,” he tells her.  “I really like you. More than I’ve liked anyone else.”

She cranes her neck to get a better look at him and there is only earnestness in his eyes.

“I like you too, Ben,” she says quietly. “More than I’ve liked anyone else.”

He smiles and she smiles and Rey is so smitten it’s disgusting.

It’s soon for this sort of thing- this _like_ that is clearly more than a like- even she knows that, but she doesn’t care.

\--

She wants him to mean it.

He has to mean it. 

Because she means it too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those worried about World In My Eyes, update coming next week <3


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